The rain is stopping now, and a few drops still tip-tap off the roof, leaving wet trails on the windows. The air is full of leftover winter and the smell of damp earth, but there are glimpses of blue sky, and the edges of the clouds are golden. It’s Frey weather.
To me, he’s the personification of peace and good harvests, the watered and fertile ground, the animals rutting in the woods.
Frey’s powers of fecundity seem more animalistic than Thor’s; Most popular images have him stroking his beard with his cock out, or riding into battle with a golden boar and no sword. Sometimes he is shown wielding an antler instead of a weapon- no magical forged hammer for Frey, but an animal part picked from the forest floor.
The loss of the sword gained him a wife, who was hopefully worth it, as it’s a decision that gets him killed in the end. Some suggest that the tale has echoes of a yearly cycle, that the giantess Gerth represents the soil- sterile, until coupled with the sunshine and the rain.
Here, it feels like he’s paid us a visit; the ground, soaked, is already starting to warm, and the garden looks awake and ready for spring.