This time of year is always one of quiet reflection for me, almost pensive were it not for the larger sense of awe that blots out the sadness and primal survival instincts kicking in, as well.
The Winds are relentless now, ripping at the trees, tearing at my hair, demanding that all that cannot be sustained be released, all that does not benefit be gotten rid of; They demand we let go in order to be strong.
Our altar will be changed this weekend. It still lays dressed for Mabon, but the novelty and energetic appropriateness have both worn off. I'm not quite ready for a full Samhain set up, so I'm thinking of setting up the altar in stages. This would serve to honor the change so emphasized in the natural world; this is only a time of flux. I feel compelled to honor a specific Family God at this time, to provide Him a place of recognition upon our altar. But what symbolic display is fair enough for the Wind? Thinking I'll have to create something, something that pulls together the impressions of His energies, the cryptic statements I heard as a child, and the seasonal nature of this One.
This may be the perfect use for the handful of seeds I've saved from every Samhain since the kids were born. Ideas poring in. I'm itching for a dremmel, my wood burner, and some chicken bones.
Throwing the Bones