Darkness Descending

This is, by far, my favourite time of year.

I am a bit sad to see the sun start to wane earlier and earlier - especially on my current work schedule - but I love the gathering crispness of the air. And Hallowe'en is an all-time favourite from long before I knew it as Samhain. All the kitschy, spooky pumpkins and ghosts, orange and black, dark purple and lime green, witch hats and spiderwebs. I love it all. A lot of my witchy/pagan friends joke that Hallowe'en is the time to "buy all the decorations we'll use year-round".

I spent most of my morning out with my wife and a good friend, walking in the woods, chatting about things, exploring off the beaten path. I have a little cozy spot near the ocean in one of our local parks, and I was finally able to take them there and show them. I collected acorns, and periwinkle shells and beach glass to decorate with, and left handfuls of birdseed as an offering in thanks. 

When I got back, I did some tidying, then took a cleansing shower with soap I bought from the new withcy store that just opened in my City. I dressed in clean, fresh pyjamas, and got to work.

I set my Samhain altar up this year and things are a bit more grim than normal. The main altar which has been decked out for Samhain has a rather strong focus on the "death" aspect - in the tarot sense, of big change coming through.

Except the spoopy little pumpkin. <3

Don't mind my toes.

I took the time to completely dismantle my summery altar, clean and dust, really go through everything carefully. I had Wardruna's "Helvegen" playing on loop (it is a funeral dirge, technically speaking) and burned Kyphi on charcoal. I chose some items from my collection of altar baubles I am no longer using -  to pass along to someone else--sacrifice and letting go.

As I got started in arranging things, I took note of the wind picking up outside - it was supposed to "shower" this afternoon, and never really did - but as I got into my altar working, a sudden clap of thunder startled me, and the rain came down hard. Can't get much better than a passing thunderstorm when doing something a little sombre, but a little grand, too.

I have had visions over the summer, of an owl bearing a lantern, leading a processional of ghosts, essentially - so I made sure to factor both my little tealight lantern, and my favourite owl figures, into the altar, emphasizing that role as a psychopomp. My stag sculpture, chestnuts, pine cones, are all symbolic to me of the change in nature - the "death" of the natural world as winter draws near.

After all was set up, I snuffed the incense, and lit my candles. I shared a little bit of fudge as an offering to my ancestors and deceased relatives (we all have a huge sweet tooth), and asked for their guidance and aid during the big changes coming in my life over the next little while.

I then did a small small blot to my gods with a bit of whiskey, and rounded up all of my old herbs, sand, salt, incense dust, old charm bags and everything that is past its time - to "libate" outside.

It feels good to be back.

Turning the Wheel

We celebrated Samhain with a bang this year. We always do something, if we're not away, but this year we did a fairly planned ritual, and invited a bunch of good friends to join. We made poppets, and buried ourselves in effigy to "lay to rest" a part of ourselves that no longer served. My coven dressed in robes with eerie face paint to play spectres of death, silently joining us on a winding path into the woods and our spot there. We celebrated afterward with a feast of finger foods and snacks. All in all, it was a lovely night. I feel like my focus was more on "running" the ritual and keeping to my part, more so than participating in the intent of the ritual, but that's OK with me. I think of it as a worthy small sacrifice, that maybe this ritual was more for others than for myself. It was a ton of fun and looked awesome, and went off mostly hitch-free. Can't say fairer than that. 

The clocks went back Sunday morning (we observe DST here). The change is an abrupt and jarring one, going from dusky in the morning when I leave for work, to sunny (for now) and it is now dark when I leave. This means I take the bus in the evening now rather than walk, which sadly robs me of a good chunk of my physical activity every day. (My walk takes me through a less than great neighbourhood. I won't travel it alone after dark.) 

The change is a forced reminder that Samhain is the end of fall, that the darkness we celebrate is not just death, not just the memory of those who have gone before, but the coming months of dark with the turn of the seasons.

I have a love/hate relationship with winter. 

I hate being cold, hate a runny nose and burning cheeks and everything hurting for 20 minutes after I've come inside as blood returns to chilled limbs. I hate dragging under the weight of boots and a heavy coat. I hate getting on the bus the morning to go to work on a day to supposed to storm, knowing I may get stranded, may not get home til 3 hours later than I should, knowing I should be home safe and warm. I hate Christmas, a new development. I hate commercial Christmas. Carols start playing here November 1, all the stores are already waving signs in my face reminding me that my love is quantified by how much I spend on my loved ones. 

But I love the pure silence and dark of a night where snow is falling, glittering on the grass, under the streetlights. I love the crunch of hardened snow under my boots. The clean white clinging to trees like they've been glittered with diamonds. I love seeing new birds, birds from the north seeking refuge where it's warmer, but not too warm. I love feeling drawn in close to home and my chosen family, celebrating with food and drink, honouring our heritage, our ancestors, and our bonds with each other. I love being warm inside and watching the wind howl and snow swirl outside. 

I love hearing the earth stir in her sleep.

When I was younger and my life was run by school time, the seasons seemed to have less meaning than they do now. Summer meant freedom, as did Christmas, winter meant the occasional snow day. Fall was the embodiment of evil, the unwelcome return to drudgery and boredom. I had no appreciation for the season itself and what it meant.

 Maybe it's something I'm growing into with age, or as I get closer to my practice and spirituality. I feel the wheel turn, feel the earth in her cycles and know in my heart that every time has a purpose, snotty mittens and all.