Here’s a really good from the heart post by a Brit about getting through winter that i think we can All relate to, and here is my comment – “I live here in Pennsylvania USA and it is snowing to beat the band with forecasts of highs in the teens (F) with wind chills in the minus teens. Brrrr.
Luckily i live in the woods so it is beautiful, until i have to go out and shovel tomorrow. I have never liked January/February mostly because of the lack of light and i turn another year older (soon to be 61). But i have my bird feeders and enjoy watching them, and one male comes every morning and dusk and sits on the rhododendron outside my living room window and I kiss my right thumb to salute the red bird (an Old thing i learned from an ex who learned it from her Gramma, obviously phallic+red+fertility etc) and call him a pretty bird and he just flits around looking in at me.
My elder witch teacher and initiator told us to not try to do any magick between Winter Solstice and Candlemas as nature was resting and so should we and our magick would peter out.
Wow – I never really thought how the runes all come from the six pointed snowflake! And here in PA Dutch country many hex signs are of course hexagrams. Thanks for that illumination!
I have dealt with some hard health issues the last few years, and many times i felt like my gods have abandoned me, but somehow my faith in them or their faith in me grows back. Nature Herself is my true healer and who keeps me sane.
My favorite ritual, even over All Hallows Eve, is Candlemas because in the myth of Persephone its like you know she is coming out of her cave to bring the green back and you can’t see her but you can the flicker of her candle, and that gives me the hope to get through winter.
Your post is written from the heart and i am going to reblog it, so thank you and Blessed Be.”
I dislike winter….sure it has its moments but for the most part I spend the whole of winter longing for spring. OK, there are parts of winter I like, there is nothing more beautiful than those bright chilly mornings when dense frosts coat the land and everything seems to sparkle and shimmer, nothing more joyful than a lone Robin nipping back and forth into the garden for a tasty morsel, nothing more inspiring as the occasional low lying mist which hovers over the lakes like wraiths dancing in the cool air and nothing more awe-inspiring as the raging storms which lash and howl. These events however are rare occurrences, for the most part and certainly this year, Britain just sits under a cloak of grey, just…grey…miserable, non-descript, uninspiring… grey. Maybe it’s because I am a summer baby, born around the longest day, maybe it’s because I’m a Cancerian, preferring to spend winter…
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