Yuletide

 

I was up before the dawn and managed to settle myself long enough to perform a simple solitary rite, which is more than I've managed in quite some time. This country, this world, is in a dark place these days, and finding the light has gotten measurably harder as time rolls on and ever-viler people attain power. Still, we understand that everything is cyclical, and dawn always follows even the deepest darkness. The winter sunlight streaming through my window currently is a golden glow, even though the temperature remains well below freezing, and I take this as a reminder to remember and seek the light in darkness, the glittering moments sparking through the long cold nights. Solstice blessings to you all!

Spring Equinox

 

Imbolc

photo http://www.thegypsythread.org

 February Eve has come, bringing with it just enough warmth and rain to wash away the last of January's snow. Now begins the up and down dance of February, cold this day, warm the next, snow here, rain there, the tug of war between winter and spring. Beyond my window the sky is a soft grey-blue, and what was white yesterday is now a soggy greenish brown. If the rains promised for today were to stop long enough to allow me a walk in nature, I might see signs of life just beginning, the tenderest soft shoots of green just barely breaking the surface; those little hints of life are sustenance enough for me, at this time of year.

For years we've joked about how Imbolc is the sabbat that everyone always skips, because the weather is always wretched. It's true enough that my coven isn't meeting for the sabbat this year, but it's less because of the weather (which is, admittedly, fairly wretched per usual) than because of the ongoing pandemic. The virus that has reshaped our world over the past year has also reshaped itself, appearing in some new and more easily transmissible variants; and while vaccines do now exist, not everyone is able to get one yet, as they are being rolled out in phases with the more vulnerable being first to receive them. It could be well into the spring or even summer before I'm eligible, with the same being true of most of my coveners. And so we wait, as the earth waits, for the return of light and life and hope and all those things that are promised by the spring's awakening.

Celebrating the Season of the Witch

As days grow cooler and shadows lengthen, as green gives way to brown and bronze and gold, as crows call and bats wheel against a softening twilit sky, then the witch blood stirs and rises as our season comes alive.

It seems only natural to want to seek our own kind this time of year, a process that, paradoxically, is both easier and harder than ever before. Easier, in the sense that I can, for example, open up my Tumblr and see several hundred apparently kindred spirits; harder, because meeting such people in the flesh is a challenge in an era when it's no longer necessary to leave the house or risk contact with strangers to seek the mysteries. Lately I'm feeling the differences between now and The Way Things Were when I first got in; can curmudgeonly, cat-accompanied croneliness be far away?

Terry Pratchett has famously suggested that the natural size of a coven is one, and most days I'm inclined to agree; still, even the most fiercely independent of us can feel the tug of kinship's bonds, and the sweet melancholy that walks in hand with the thwarted desire to share in such a meeting of minds.

(This is absolutely a topic I plan to pursue further, though perhaps not here. In due time, in due time...)

So what is a lonely witch to do, here in the heart of the October country? Fortunately, the options abound this time of year.

• Witch up and get outside. Explore the beauties of the natural world so abundant this time of year. Make contact with the spirits of the land. Feel for yourself the shifting of the tides, the thinning of the veil, the turning of the wheel. Most of all, feel yourself as a part of all of these things.
• Find a festival, sabbat, or group with whom you can guest for the holiday. Particularly at Samhaintide, there are ample opportunities to visit circles and events, from Pagan Pride Days to sabbat-specific festivals. Step beyond your usual comfort zone (though of course keep yourself safe in so doing) and investigate something new, keeping expectation out of it as much as possible. It may end up disappointing you -- or you may end up making a friend or having a memorable experience to treasure.
• Commune with the ancestors, not only your own blood relations but the blessed dead of your chosen tribe. Honor your elders and teachers who have gone before. Make offerings, visit graves, create shrines, tell stories, keep their names and deeds and memories alive (what is remembered, lives).

• Do some witchcraft. If you really want to meet like-minded people for future celebrations, why not do some work to that end? Devise an appropriate spell (say, to attract witchy friends, to find a coven to work with, etc.), cast it, then get to networking. Utilize local resources like shops, Facebook groups, Meetup.com, and others to help you broaden your horizons.

Most of all, revel in this, the season of the witch, in all its spooky, magical glory! I have some fond memories of going to my parent tradition's old Samhain gather (and a few other memories that make me mildly stabby to this day). Every year you'd see a lot of people you didn't know and more than a few you wished you didn't, some old friends you were glad to see and, once in a while, new ones you were happy to meet. I'm looking forward this year to celebrating with as many of my current lineage as can manage to get together; and I wish similar happy shenanigans for all of you.

All Hallows Eve

The Autumn People

“Beware the autumn people. … For some, autumn comes early, stays late, through life where October follows September and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ’s birth, there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring or revivifying summer. For these beings, fall is the only normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No, the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks through their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles—breaks. Such are the autumn people. Beware of them.”

- Ray Bradbury, “Something Wicked This Way Comes”

Happy Equinox

clarsach agus claidheamh

My preferred working tool for this season. Warm spring breezes and burgeoning blossoms stir the muse within. Blessings of the equinox to you all!

Signs of the Seasons (or, The Witch Goes A'Wandering)

My most recent rambles through the neighborhood have been graced with little hints of things to come, and lately with more blatant examples of things that have already arrived ahead of schedule. At first it was green shoots peeking shyly up from the last remnants of autumn's mulch; but as the temperatures have continued above average, and the length and strength of sunlight has increased, those shoots are now developing into the wide green leaves that will shortly shelter the nodding yellow heads of daffodils. Not content to await a later season, impudent little crocuses in white and yellow and purple are already bursting out exuberantly, splashing color across the awakening landscape. There are already dandelions cropping up where they shouldn't be. The clover is greening. The earth is awakening early.