Category: Nature

Imbolc Treasure

Imbolc is the Celtic festival of winter’s end, the start of spring, and is celebrated on the first or second of February. Spring isn’t here yet, but we’ve made it to halfway between winter solstice and the equinox. Lambs are on their way, and…

She Gave me a Witchstone

See the hole right through the middle? That’s what makes this a witchstone, or hagstone. Traditionally associated with magic, they are used as protection from various evils, including to protect sailors from drowning. The hole is formed by the ocean and the particles therein…

Ocean Longing

Strange nostalgia for the sea Background smell Of coal dust and coziness While I walk on the beach Houses behind me Horizon ahead Beckoning.

New Friends

Distracted by the Birds

I often find myself distracted in the kitchen. I’m supposed to be jamming. Making jam, not music. But the pigeons coo, the great tits see-saw whistle, the blue tits chatter and the wrens scold, their huge voices belying their tiny bodies. My feelings war…

The Path

This poem was written for Sue Dudley, one of the winners of a competition during the Pagan Federation Beltane Online Festival. Sue was happy for me to share the poem that she inspired. I just never got around to it until now! I am…

Inktober

I’ve never done inktober before as I don’t really think of myself as an artist. I was drawn to it this year though. No idea why! I think I maybe just needed a break from writing without stopping being creative, if that makes sense?…

Autumn Colours

I’m an autumn photography addict. I can’t help but get snap happy at this time of year. Colours leaps out at me from every angle and I want to capture it, hold it, cling onto it as if the fiery colours can actually warm…

Merry Autumn Equinox!

Joyous Alban Elfed, the light on the water. Happy first day of autumn, according to many almanacs. Merry Mabon, to those who honour this name. Happy Harvest Home, the last grain being stored. However and why ever you celebrate, may this moment of balance…

Samildánach

Will I have any corn to bring To place on the stone within the ring? Will I have flesh to cut and burn And place inside the bubbling urn? Will I have neeps and spuds and carrots To fill these wide and simmering pots?…

Summer Jewels

Summer walks with the children.

Greydawn

When the sun doesn’t rise Majestically over The horizon But diffuses through cloud Like milk spilling Through ink When bird song sends Rain shivering Onto sodden paths When the moon has fizzled damply And stars have sighed and left Without saying goodbye When night…