I have no interest in a Book of Shadows written by men such as Gardner or Sanders. Give me the wild teaching of land. Give me a Library of Shadows gifted by the woods, by standing stones. I'll let no-man write my way through magic for me. – #EmilyBanting, 1982 #Witchcraft
One of the most important learnings of witchcraft is a listening of the land. Where is its song loudest? Sweetest? Which trees talk with sonorous voices? Which trees tell you secrets that you cannot ignore? The witch's inner ears are mighty. – #EmilyBanting, 1982 #Witchcraft
In a funk today: prescience of the mind-numbing boredom at work. Probably.
Me: I should be home. I have crafting to do.
Co-worker: What kind of crafts do you do?
Me: Witch.
Mood.
Sun-bleached crab shell on pebble beach
The desert has its bleached bones, the shore has its own bleached treasures. #bluecrab
Meadow at sunrise.
This is not today. Today’s sunrise is curtained by voluptuous fog rolling down the Potomac. The Canada geese are dark counter-points to the grey.
Fog on the lower Potomac River.
A pier in the fog.
Fog rolling in over the Potomac. I could almost hear the rigging of a phantom ship singing.
In my case, it is rivers. I have 2 lovely rivers surrounding me to converse with.
Absolute truth, my darlings.
For magic runs the blood tides of a witch’s veins and arteries. She cannot be other than her nature. She cannot be divorced from nature. The witch is full of mysteries and wild ways and no-one can change these intrinsic truths of her being. - #EmilyBanting, 1981 #WitchWednesday
Yesterday morning, the wind’s howling was the eerie cries of lost souls; unearthly harbingers of the storm to come. What does one do but batten the hatches, light a candle and offer prayers on behalf of the Anima Sola.
