Day 10 of Yule:Coming Soon

This post is part 9 of my 12 Days of Yule series, inspired by the Pagan Grimoire. Day 9 looks at the Deer Mother, a folkloric figure in Northern Eurasia. The Deer Mother, because female reindeer don't shed their antlers in winter, carries or lifts the sun in her antlers at midwinter. 

The description inspired me to make this digital collage from three different public domain images. Each one was edited, cropped and positioned to visualize the mental image that I got, thinking about how the folklore got started.


A collage combining a snowy riverscape, a reindeer, and an image of the sun to create a new work: the reindeer rests on the side of the river, carrying the sun in its antlers.

I imagine that early North Eurasians saw a reindeer silhouetted against the low-rising sun, and started telling the story of how the deer carried the sun in her antlers.

Twilight at the Riverbank

In the lore, the Deer Mother is a guide and light‑bringer, a powerful reindeer mother who moves through the solstice night keeping the returning sun safe. I started to imagine her as crepuscular (most at home in the edges of day) curled into the snow at dusk, the river beside her still flowing while her own body leans into stillness.

In the collage, she feels like a traveler who has stopped just before the hardest part of the road, letting her body rest while the sun waits with her. The gold disk at her antlers becomes a companion more than a destination: not yet rising, not yet lost, simply held in trust until the sky is ready to receive it.

Honoring Day Nine

The ninth day of Yule is a night for “rest before the journey.” I'm reflecting on what it means to rest in the dark season, knowing the light is returning. 

I also consider what “carrying the light” means for me in the days ahead. Is it more of a hearth fire, centered at home, or a candle I carry with me? Letting those questions surface feels like its own way of marking the day.

How Would You Recognize the Deer Mother’s Day?

If the Deer Mother’s story stirs something in you too, how would you recognize this ninth day of Yule? Would you spend a twilight hour noticing when you feel most like the river—always in motion—and when you feel most like the deer, resting yet quietly holding a future sunrise in your metaphorical antlers?

Maybe you would respond with your own art, or with a few lines of reflection about the light you’re safeguarding through your personal winters. However you approach it, I’m curious: where in your life does the Deer Mother lie down for the night, and what sunrise might she be gathering her strength to carry?