The Wheel continues to turn as Yule begins to pass. The old year gone and the new one already underway and perhaps, as to be..
As I write this, the sun is still warm, the day still bright, even at this late hour, as evening draws on and the normal..
“She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head, And whispered to her neighbor: “Winter is dead.” ― A.A. Milne, “Because the birdsong might be..
I’ve waited a while to write this, not wanting it to get lost among the plethora of new year new you posts, because let’s face..
Darkness pushes against the glass and the wind wails in the eaves, making the panes rattle. The night beckons. It calls to something inside of..
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ― Sarah Williams “What hath night to do with sleep?” ― John..
Reassessing what we thought we knew through the lens of our experience is the bread and butter of witchcraft. Our paths are ever ongoing, they..
“Your growing antlers,’ Bambi continued, ‘are proof of your intimate place in the forest, for of all the things that live and grow only the..
Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow..
This garden and every living and dead thing within it. The earth, the grass, the trees, the soil, all alive and filled with spirit and..
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