First off, I don't normally talk about controversial or political anything in this blog. This isn't because such things don't concern me, or that I'm not interested or following them, but rather that those topics aren't truly within the scope of this blog or this website. Besides that, there are many, many wonderful Pagan bloggers out there who cover these topics and issues, with wit, humor, and empathy; I encourage you to search out their works in regards to those topics.
However, the topic of coming together and forming a community is within the scope of this blog, as is holding to one's own truths and needs.
With dreams of our farm in my head, visions of goats, honey bees, and dirt, I wander about the small container garden we have. There are 20-some pots this year (mind you, that's counting the garden outside only, not the jungle inside, of which a tour wil have to wait till another post...) with a mix of veggies, herbs, and flowers.
A good many of the plants are perrenials, some ones that I've had for years (eight years on the longest) though many of them, this year, are brand new to the family. I'm hoping they'll last the coming Winter.
So, come along on a little tour of my and my family's garden.
The last of the herbs layed on the counter. I measured out some thread and
quickly bundled them together. The pressure released their oils, and the mixed smell of Dill, Spearmint, Marjoram, and others only served to further instill in me the proper mindset. There was work to be done.
The children ran lauging out to the car as I carried a backpack, loaded heavy with a cauldron, wine, incense, and the freshly made herb bundle, among other things. We drove out to my mom and stepdad's house: they would be watching the kids for us for a few hours.
My husband and I drove away and further into the country side. Our first choice of location was full of people, despite the storm clouds to the North. We drove on, deeper into wildland.
Sky filled with ominous clouds, deer and horseflies swarmed; the storm had them on edge. The cold wind sent shivers through me as we walked down the trail. It would only be a mile or so, but already my barefeet were scolding me: there was fresh gravel on the trail.
We walked quickly. The wind picked up, not quite enough to deter the flies, but enough to give us chills. Though, now and then, I couldn't tell if the chills were truly from the cold wind or the power that was slowly building. This was going to be an amazing night.
Throwing the Bones
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