“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
― Sarah Williams
“What hath night to do with sleep?”
― John Milton, Paradise Lost
Balmy summer nights call to the wildness within. Those darkened few hours, so few they seem fleeting, more precious because of their swift passing, hold within sweet magick. Don’t believe me then just wait. Stay up late and watch as the day slips into dusk and further still as the sky blazes in oranges, pinks and reds, deepening to purple and then darker still. As the first star glints and the moon rises.
There’s magick here.
Close your eyes and feel it.
The night descends and seems to cover you, a gleaming coverlet embroidered with stars. The moon light glints off your sun browned shoulder and catches in your eyes so that they gleam like those of a wild beast.
Close your eyes and take a deep breath.
The night air carries the dusky scent of the wild rose and the heady elixir of jasmine and something else, some darker scent you cannot place. The scent of the undergrowth, sweet, moist and dank.
Nothing else exists in this place. Only you, the darkness of night and the wild made more so. Feel your heartbeat in your chest. Draw the night air deep into your lungs. Taste it. This is where magick is made, where pacts are formed, whether between lovers or witches, it doesn’t matter. The secrets told in these hours are whispered like sacred vows for that is what they are.
In these hours the night feels alive and with it everything else. You can hear the trees more clearly as they whisper their secrets in the rustling of their leaves; the earth damp beneath bare feet draws your own from you and always that intoxicating scent of wild rose, jasmine and lavender too. The breeze rises and dips bringing with it another layer of meaning and depth. Feel it as it catches in your hair and reminds you of your own wildness.
You were meant for this place. This is where you hold your sabbat, whether with the cloven foot man in black or goddess of your own choosing. This is where we meet as equals. This is where our spirit meets the spirit of the wild, the genius loci.
This night work is vital for those who might wish to work with spirit in earnest. It is the shadow work aspect of spirit work. The world at night, even somewhere as seemingly safe as an urban garden is an eye opener. It is like a baptism where the veil that clouded your vision is washed away, the darkness becomes illuminating. Where you realise the wild has layers, and depth of feeling. You don’t even need a garden, just go outside in your street when night has fallen and the street is quiet. See how different it feels to the daytime hours.
You’ll be surprised.
I always advise my students and readers who want to develop their relationship with the land and the spirits that reside there to spend more time outside, but more than that, to go out at different times of the day and night. It is a simple activity that requires very little save the willingness to stay up later. In essence, you don’t need to leave the house, though, if you can I advise it. If all you can do is to open a window wide and allow the night in, then even this small measure is enough.
However you experience the outside world at night, allow yourself to flow into it. Close your eyes. Feel the air on your skin. Loosen your hair. Close your eyes and breathe deeply. Taste the night. Embrace the night. Hear, see and feel everything. Do not think but just experience. Be as the wild things you share this space with. Allow yourself to loosen your human skin and to wear the dress of the wild. Let your spirit soar into the dark depths of the night and rejoice with the spirits of land.
“The world rests in the night. Trees, mountains, fields, and faces are released from the prison of shape and the burden of exposure. Each thing creeps back into its own nature within the shelter of the dark. Darkness is the ancient womb. Nighttime is womb- time. Our souls come out to play. The darkness absolves everything; the struggle for identity and impression falls away. We rest in the night.”
― John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom
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“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ― Sarah Williams “What hath night to do with sleep?” ― John Milton, Paradise Lost Balmy summer nights call to the wildness within. Those darkened few hours, so few they seem fleeting, more precious because of their swift passing, hold within sweet […] -
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ― Sarah Williams “What hath night to do with sleep?” ― John Milton, Paradise Lost Balmy summer nights call to the wildness within. Those darkened few hours, so few they seem fleeting, more precious because of their swift passing, hold within sweet […] -
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ― Sarah Williams “What hath night to do with sleep?” ― John Milton, Paradise Lost Balmy summer nights call to the wildness within. Those darkened few hours, so few they seem fleeting, more precious because of their swift passing, hold within sweet […] -
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ― Sarah Williams “What hath night to do with sleep?” ― John Milton, Paradise Lost Balmy summer nights call to the wildness within. Those darkened few hours, so few they seem fleeting, more precious because of their swift passing, hold within sweet […] -
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ― Sarah Williams “What hath night to do with sleep?” ― John Milton, Paradise Lost Balmy summer nights call to the wildness within. Those darkened few hours, so few they seem fleeting, more precious because of their swift passing, hold within sweet […]
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