Late Autumn's Splendor

Keats's "To Autumn" is called to mind on days such as these--

                   While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
                   And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
                   Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
                   Among the river sallows, borne aloft
                   Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies (lns.25-29)

Indeed, the day started out much as Keats would have us envision the final "chapter" of Autumn.  It was a quiet morning--a thin veil of mist rose from the hillocks and meadows surrounding our town.  Wildlife and livestock alike milled about in tentative awareness of a "something" in the air.  The newly-harvested fields lay fallow and clean.  Yet, as sensual as this season is, it could not be that softened. 

All the tumultuous passion of this season spent itself this afternoon and evening.  The sun burst forth from his dimming cloud bank to reveal the jeweltoned leaves on the Crepe Myrtles and Oaks in all their splendor.  Birds chirruped in the warming embrace of the life-giving rays.  Then, just as suddenly, the skies darkened with the threatening gunmetal-grey clouds of an approaching storm.  Breezes which has once teased the jeweled leaves from the branches now took on the guise of gusting winds--grabbing at still-verdant shrubbery.  The heavens opened and the rains came down--a downburst of perhaps ten-minutes' time.  As suddenly as it came upon this area, it dissipated as rapidly, leaving behind Nature's mirrors to reflect the season's effacement at its own hand.

We're in the "dark half" of the year indeed, my darling Lair visitors and friends--the season of preparation.  It's a "nesting" season for many of us--baking, tidying away, decorating for the festivities of Thanksgiving and Yule which are rapidly approaching.  We gather loved ones close and light the hearthfire to welcome the onset of darkness.  We embrace the sensual nature of the Season yet yearn for the coming of the light of Spring. 

Again, as with our Samhain preparations, sit back and truly treasure this time.  Enjoy the simple pleasures--a soft throw over your legs to guard against the chill of November; the smell of the sleeping garden as you sit outside of a pleasant afternoon and enjoy a lovely book; the comforting crackle of wood in a fireplace while the bracing winds and rains of late Autumn rage without.  Bake bread (always a favored pasttime at the Lair), create a comforting soup from whatever strikes your fancy, brew a strong pot of tea and share all with friends and family in celebration of the darkness which brings you together.  We've time...bounteous time in which to sit and reflect and recognize all that She has bestowed upon us this past year.  And yet, this time will end--the holiday season passes with a flash and a pop and then 'twill be another calendar year full of promise.

I pour you a cup of the Lair's blend of black tea--ripe with dried fruits and rinds and spices of the Holiday Season--and invite you once more to find solace and welcoming warmth here.  Thank you for joining me...I count you all among our many blessings bestowed this year. 

In the soft, misty light of the late Autumn Moon...

Samhain 2010

Once again, the blessed Samhain is upon us.  The secular giving of treats to little ones (and not so little ones) at the door is over and the familial work of preparation and remembrance may begin.  The Veil is thinning, the Circle is being cast, the candles are being lit, and the loved ones are drawing near from the Other World.  

As we close in on this moment--this particular ritual so familiar and so infinitely new each Samhain--feel the magick of this night.  'Tis the final Quarter of our Lady's journey through the skies before She makes Herself New on November 6th.  Things are slowing at this time...the Veil is parted, but we needn't rush our preparations.  There is time, my dear Lair followers...there is ALWAYS time.  

Hold fast to your kith and kin this beauteous Night of Samhain.  Keep both those of this world and those of the next ever close.  Feel the warm embrace of She who unites us for this loveliest of moments.

Blessed Samhain, my dears.

In the waning light of the Moon... 

Approaching Samhain 2010

Today, in the most bizarre of manners, I was made aware of Her presence in all our existence--of Her wisdom.  This is the final week prior to Samhain.  From Mabon to Samhain, we of the Path (whichever branch you happen to travel on) acknowledge the coming Darkness...and prepare ourselves accordingly.
In all the preparation we make for our "New Year" celebrations/rituals, however, some folk tend to get so wrapped up that we lose sight of Her soft aura which guides our days and our darkness.

So it was this morning.  Once again, I was busily preparing for my day--waken, shower and go through my rote-ritual of the morning, pause at the altar to center, rush about madly gathering tea and texts and laptop, drive "under the radar" to the first location at which I teach.  At the end of that first course, however, I was "slapped in the face" by our Lady's gentle presence.  An announcement came over the intercom--"Would all teachers and students please report to the foyer at this time" {Me--slight grumble at the interruption} "Our Special Olympians are about to depart for their tournament and, in the tradition of ______, we are sending them off through a ________ Victory Line."  {Me--smile...and wait for the inevitable}

(*For those of you who don't know, I'm a college professor who is "loaned out" to an area high school to teach college courses for BOTH senior English credit AND collegiate English Comp I and II credit)

My students looked at me and, without a blink, said "can we go?  They're the real heroes around this school."

I didn't have to say a word...they saw the approval on my face.  In a rush, they were out the door--26 of the school's best and brightest--to encourage and support some of the "forgotten."  Theater students, football players, cheerleaders, etc., all ran from the room and lined up along the hallways from the entrance of the building to the Special Education classroom, yelling Friday night cheers to their Special Olympian peers.  

I've NEVER known 17- and 18-year olds with that much compassion.  The football players at the back of my room rushed to the front of the that line and "high-fived" every single one of those Special Olympians...no one snickered, no one guffawed, no one did ANYTHING but cheer and clap and yell names out of pure support and cameraderie.  I was humbled, touched, and very much felt Her presence--the simple smiles and heartfelt encouragement in that entryway meant more than any "centering" or "drawing down" or ritual in that moment. 

So, as we fast approach the Thinning of the Veil and the accompanying Night, please remember that the compassion we show our dear ones who have since crossed over to the West does, indeed, return to us.  What I witnessed was compassion returned.

In the softness of the waning Moonlight...

The New Moon Riseth

'Tis been a while since the Lair was visited.  I think you all, dearest guests, will understand that, with the move and the process of unpacking (finally) and organizing, my other pursuits (such as this haven) had to take a secondary role.  That established, the house is organized (or at least "stowed away") and the Lair is officially housed in a quaint '50s bungalow in the historic district of our town. 

It seem highly appropriate that the Lair's relocation is happening at the turn of the seasons.  This is the opening of the "nesting" season for us all.  We've begun to turn inward in our rituals and Craftings--preparations are more internal than public.  We're more aware of the seasonal shifts than at the height of the Summer.  Mabon preparations are underway and Samhain is quickly approaching--our new year.  Here at the Lair, the organizing and placing of our things (housed in a storage shed for a year) was accomplished in rapid order...and then we turned our attentions to something that has been in the offing for a year--our altar. 

Though it's still being tinkered with and not all the needed items are on it, we "inherited" a dear little alcove in the main hall of our new house--it was originally a telephone cubby--that is a perfect spot for the altar.  Our Goddess and the basic materials we needed were placed there--a quiet spot on the way out of the bedrooms each morning to reflect, center, and garner the strength and energies for the day. 

Since moving into the Cottage, establishing the altar, and being able to focus freely on our Paths (for my husband follows a separate Path from mine...complementary, but unique to his energies), our helpers have returned.  The sparkly faes are quieter (we have cats and dogs...the faes are reacclimating to life with furry critters), but our Cottage has a pond filled with fish--and that pond has become the meeting ground for doves, sparrows, finches, chickadees, toads, and one VERY pleasant squirrel.  The out-of-doors is once more open to us.  The shade tree in the side yard has offered us new wands (vines twisted around branches beckoned to us), the pond has yielded shells (who knows from whence they came), and the resident cowbirds have gifted us with a single reddish-black feather. 

The Lair is opening its arms once again.  The energies here at the Cottage are invigorating and embracing.  Nature has welcomed us with wide-stretched arms!  It finally "feels right."  Thank you, my dear friends...and Blessed Be!

In the softness of the Moonlight...

The Mockingbird

It's past midnight and all the mundane world has settled to it's slumber for the night.  At the Lair, all is resting save a lone mockingbird calling its cacophony of melodies across the ebony skies.  It's chaotic song rings across the night breezes.

Tonight, one my friends passed--suddenly but somewhat expectedly--of a rapid-onset cancer.  He had just been taken into Hospice care...he and his beloved wife were looking into options to buy him quality as the end approached far too soon.  He was honored by his peers just yesterday.  He passed this evening. 

So, dear ones, may my friendly mockingbird's chant ring out over the rooftops and across the meadows and ranchlands--far into the black corners of our Lady's nightly mantle.  May it's chorus carry to the Summerlands where he is being welcomed--whole and healthy--to bask in Her hospitality.  Although he was not of the Old Paths, may She watch over his family and may the soft night breezes soothe the pain that's in so many hearts tonight at his passing.  So, SING, darling Mockingbird, SING his passing and sing our loss....but sing evermore the hope for tomorrow!

In the softness of the ever-present Moonlight...

Changes are a'Comin'!

Merry meet, everyone!!

For the first time in a year, there is a glimmer of "hope" and "positive forward movement" at the Lair. Most of you know that we've been living with friends for the past year due to a relocation without the benefit of selling out former house. Well, the old property is in motion to be sold within the next six months AND, as we're leasing to the soon-to-be buyers, we found we're able to purchase here!

The Lair is about to get a NEW permanent home...with a magickal little pond in the backyard repleat with tadpoles, peeper-frogs, toads, fruit trees in the yard, and plenty of space for a moonlight garden, herb garden, and veggie garden!

Our sparkly faerie folk who smuggled themselves into our moving van and relocated themselves with us have already been informed of the new relocation and I've been going over to the new property repeatedly to show them where to move. I've already caught sight of one errant "sparkle" where there ought not to have been any the other day--their move, it seems, has already begun in preparation for our arrival.

And, closing is scheduled for just before this upcoming "Blessing Moon"--appropriate indeed!

Please, for my hubby and I, keep the positive energies flowing for us--we feel each and every pulse as you wonderful people encourage the forward motions to continue. The ONLY thing remaining is for the hub' to find a permanent position...which is slow-going, but has positive potential finally.

As with always, may She hold you close and may the faerie folk frolick gaily in your gardens!

In the warmth of the waning Moonlight....Blessed Be!

I Understand...I Wish It Was Mutual

Greetings, my dear Lair guests! Today's missive isn't nature-glorifying or serenely reflective...it's a bit of a rant, actually. Just shaking out the "dust" in preparation for the summer.

I had an interchange the other day that seems "appropriate" to share given some of the blog topics of late (esp. darling Albiana's at "Flying off the Broom Handle" from 27 April). As was so eloquently (and hilariously) stated by Albiana's post, I've no problem with others expounding upon their spiritual/religious/faith practices through brochures, leaflets, or face-to-face "witnessing" or "testimonials." Heck, if your beliefs work for you, more power to ya! That you believe something--even that you believe that there's nothing TO believe in--is fine with me, so long as you have clearly stated reasons. The "'cause that's just the way it is" folk are the ones that bug me.

Case in point...a relative of mine (my blood-relatives pretty much don't know of my Path as the "drama" that would ensue just isn't worth it to me...I'd rather keep the closeness and let them think what they will) texted me about the beauty of the area they were traveling through. I'm certain it was lovely--especially at this time of the year. The text, which was in a variant of TXT shorthand, attributed this beauty to God. When I texted back that I couldn't understand some of the message (due to the shorthand used), they sent back "what, the hills, trees, vistas? Certainly not God."

Okay, so I get that, to many of you, I probably should have reacted...stated my beliefs right there and then...gotten out of the "broom closet" for real. But, to the person I was chatting, it would have done more harm than good. People who are "black/white" in their thinking don't do well with the "grey" in which all of us in the Pagan community live. Do I not understand God?--of course I do....it's a variant of the "poetic mind" (nods to the Enlightenment for that one) that guides the Universe. Do I understand YOUR God?--insofar as that's the belief system under which I was raised, yes. Do I acknowledge your God as my "Lord and Savior"?--no due to the restrictive and insular nature of the system in which he is worshipped.

Much like many of us, I became what I am today due, in part, to an awareness of those same restrictive and insular methods by which the faith practice is taught. I "grew" into Wicca...was unaware that I was a beliver until I started reading on alternative religions at university...didn't realize I was practicing Witchcraft until one of my friends more-or-less knocked me over the head with my athame. For how many of us has this been the pattern? For how many more would the concept of "growing into" a belief seem a sham or an excuse for not doing the whole church thing?

So, in essence, yes....I do understand God...on an intellectual level. I also intellectually understand Allah, Yahweh, the Buddha, and the teachings of Confucius. But, I embrace the Goddess...and dance in the light of the Moon (nods to "The Owl and the Pussycat"). I am open to the wonders and variety of the Universe...to the "grey" in everyone. The question isn't whether we, as Pagans, understand God, but whether "they" understand that difference is a thing to be celebrated...not suppressed. I "get" that.....do you?

In the softness and safety of the Moonlight...

Spring Scenes I

The seasons are beginning to shift once again. The soft, maidenly blush of early Spring has matured to the riotous colors and fragrances and sounds of late April. Skies which were once frosty blue--much like glacial ice--have warmed to a deep cornflower. These are studded with cotton-like tufts of clouds which kiss the ground with playful, irregular shadows and the cleanly-cool breezes tease them across the warm, blue sky. It's the PERFECT "cloud animal" weather.

Trees and grasses native to the area (the campus at which I teach tries its best to landscape using native plants when possible) are in full flower and leaf now! Fields which have laid bare for months have exploded in a riot of wildflowers--deep blue Bluebonnets edged in lacy white, coral- and lemon-tinged Indian Paintbrush, delicate wild mustard, cheerful heliotrope thistles, sunny coreopsis, and regal irises (thanks to squirrels who've a penchant for gardening). Ash, oak, and bottlebrush trees now provide a pleasant dappled shade in the wide expanses of soft grass.

And then there are the creatures--plump ruddy squirrels busily digging for winter acorns forgotten or lost under the newly-grown lawns; nervous rabbits tentatively munching on the new flowers and bedding plants; a merry mockingbird overseeing the entire scene from a rooftop, singing out a pastorale of the activity below. Plump carpenter bees and lithe honeybees battle for rights to the numerous blooms and the promise of pollen and nectar within. And, lasy butterflies in stained-glass hues of azure, scarlet, gold, and emerald float on the breezes from flower to flower.

Beltane, the celebration of life and living, is nearly upon us. She has decked Herself in Her most alluring raiment through the trees and flowers and crystaline skies to beckon us to celebrate. In the days and weeks surrounding this festival of union and connection, open to the life around you! Embrace the sensual...the pleasurable...the enticing. Go outside and simply "be" in nature--sit in the sun's warming rays, rest yourself against a solid tree's trunk, chatter back to the inquisitive squirrels, engage a bee in conversation (they're quite intelligent and anxious to share if you don't shy from them). LIVE!

And, remember She who has come into Her womanhood full of live and joy and beauty.

In the sensual softness of the Moonlight...

Soft Spring Sundays

This morning, I awoke not to the sounds of the ever-present alarm clock, but to the glow of sunshine streaming through my unshuttered windows. The north Texas "breeze" (a sometimes-howling wind) was singing around the corners of the house. Native songbirds were entertaining each other by chatting above the sound of the winds.

Since Ostara, the trees have started revealing their spring attire. Redbuds have clothed themselves in the soft magentas of new growth, tulip trees have donned their fuzzy-green buds, and the diva-like bradford pears have exploded in cottony-white blossoms. The industrious bees have started their seasonal employments and dart between opening blooms in the trees and the riotous daffodils dancing in the Texas winds (please note the "nod" to dear Mr. Wordsworth).

Finally, the Maiden has returned in all her riotous beginnings! The morning sky itself has changed from the icy blue of winter to the warm and inviting blue of Spring. The clouds practically dance with the winds--scudding merrily across the cornflower sky.

So, welcome to the promise and potential and new beginnings of Spring! Welcome back to the warblers and cedar waxwings and sparrows. Welcome buds and blossoms and blooms! Welcome, Maiden!

In the softness of Spring's moonlight...

A Texas Thunderstorm

Right now, beyond the coziness of the darkened Lair lit only by my old dragonfly Tiffany-style desk lamp, a storm is raging. The rains are descending in torrents...the skies are flashing...the thunder is growling menacingly...the air is heavy with wetness. And yet, this storm, like others since moving to this state, feels cleansing. Negativity is washing away...hesitation is running down sidewalks and street gutters...new hope is pooling on lawns and around new shoots of crocus and daffodils.

It came on suddenly, rather like a brilliant idea which strikes the thinker when his mind wanders into trifles. The clouds turned gun-metal grey, the early songbirds silenced their morning reverie, and the first drops stained the dry walkways. And then the skies opened and the ground welcomed the battering rains. People caught out in the deluge scurried like so many woodland creatures to cover--cars, overhangs, trees (not bright in a thunderstorm, but functionally effective for a moment).

In the warmth of the Lair, I listen. The ebb and flow of the rains, the rumble of distant thunder as the storm slowly moves off, the silence between the stages of the deluge.

In the promise of the Moonlight...

Easing Toward Ostara

I walked outside today to be met with a crystal-clear blue sky and the welcome beams of a Spring-like sun! The biting scent of wild spring onions assaulted my nostrils...cedar waxwings raised their voices in a cacophony of song...and the breezes, for the first time this season, were slightly warm. 'Tis the entrance of Ostara and, though the equinox is still two weeks away, the promise of Spring is all around.

For three or more months, we've cocooned outselves in the warmth and safety of our homes. We've been set on preparations and ruminations. Preparations for the ensuing spring with all its magick and wonderment...all its renewal. Ruminations on the past and the hoped-for future...on where we were and where we've yet to go. And now, with the kiss of renewal in the air, we can begin to unfurl our "new" or "improved" selves--to cast aside the cocoon of introspection and recuperation and embrace the potential.

We're entering a season of balance...of potential balanced by awareness. On the physical--it's sunny, but we still need a jacket or sweater against the dewy morning breezes. On the astral--we're awakening from our meditative slumber, but we need keep focus on that which we meditated in order to ground our forward motion. But, forward motion there now is...physically and emotionally.

Move forward with purpose, but also with a remembrance and appreciation for the past. We've prepared for this moment...it's ours to embrace. So...keeping the wrap to ward of the initial chill...spring out onto that sunny meadow where the birds are calling you to join them...where She is inviting you to celebrate life and living!

In the softness of the moonlight....

The "Cold Moon" (Imbolc)

This coming weekend brings to us what the Natives of this continent called the "Cold Moon" and what we celebrate as Imbolc or Gwyl Mair--"the time of infinite possibilities for the new cycle of life and creativity, when energies are still gathering..." (Llewellen's Witches' Datebook 2010, 39). A time of infinite possibilities...

Isn't winter--at least, this darkest stage of winter when the winds are at their more biting and the days are shortest--THE season of possibility? We're given a "clean slate" of sorts. The earth lies dormant, the skies are usually steely-grey, and we gather indoors to recapture that which is most vital and life-giving to us. We "nest" at this time of the year--the hearth's fire is cheery and comforting, the meals we share are substantial and sustaining, and the plans we make are most lavish. This is not a season of distractions--there is no "pretty" in the socially-accepted form of the term. We concentrate on the "should be"s and the "will be"s now.

Louis MacNeice wrote of this in 1935...of the promise of this season...

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes -
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands -
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
(http://www.artofeurope.com/macneice/mac5.htm)

This is a season of dualities...of promise...of possibility.

In the softness of the winter moonlight....

A Blue Moon to Welcome 2010

Good 2010, dear Lair visitors (old and new)!

Last night, She joined our earthbound celebrations by gifting us with a "Blue" Moon--the second full moon of the month. According to my ever-present Witch's Datebook (2009, Llewellyn), "The Blue Moon is a time for spontaneity and imagination. [...] This is a time to release your inhibitions, letting go of fears that limit or constrict you. Release negative memories, emotions, and habits that hold you back" (133). Though it may not have been at the forefront of our minds last night amidst the celebrations and festivities of "ringing out the old and ringing in the new," the magickal qualities of last night were woven throughout our observations.

Didn't everything about this New Year's Eve seem slightly more special...slightly more "significant"? Didn't the passing of the year...of the decade...seem more poignant than New Year's Eves past? Didn't you feel the brightness of the night winds, see the crystal sparkle of the stars, smell the freshness surrounding you--even if only for a moment? She was lighting the way to new perspectives, new undertakings, and new trails on your Path through last night's Moon.

Here, it's snowed thrice so far this winter. The Natives believe that snowfall is a cleansing of the earth...a purification ritual of sorts. Perhaps She is cleansing the earthbound experience and lighting our way to a deeper understanding or awareness through the snows and the Blue Moon.

It's 2010...the opening of a new year and a new decade. The Paths we're on--whether connected or disparate--are renewed once again. There's ample possibility...remarkable promise...and fresh starts everywhere we turn today. Where will your feet lead you? Where will your heart beat truest? Where will you seek, search, and study? Wherever it is, it's a choice made, this year, in the clarity of Her Blue Moon.

Wishing you the softness of the moonlight throughout the coming year!!