Archive for October, 2009

Somebody Put It In Words …

The mystic purchases a moment of exhilaration with a lifetime of confusion; and the confusion is infectious and destructive.

It is confusing and destructive to try and explain anything in terms of anything else, poetry in terms of psychology.

~ Basil Bunting

HA!

First Snow 2009

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The mountain repeats the sound of my hatchet back to me

The sun sinks and the air cools quickly

The rhythm of my little axe draws me in

The thinning veil draws me out

The sun sets behind the hills

The moon does not rise

The skies darken and it begins to snow

The Hallowed Tide is here

The forest beckons seductively

I know better

I go inside and build up the hearth fire

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Leaves Fall …

W i n t e r

By Felix Salten

The leaves were falling from the great oak at the meadow’s edge. They were falling from all the trees. One branch of the oak reached high above the others and stretched far out over the meadow. Two leaves clung to it’s very tip. “It isn’t the way it used to be.” said one leaf to the other. “No,” the other leaf answered. “So many of us have fallen off tonight we’re almost the only ones left on the branch.” “You never know who’s going to go next,” said the first leaf.

“Even when it was warm and the sun shone, a storm or a cloudburst would come sometimes, and many leaves were torn off, though they were still very young. You never know who’s going to go next.” “The sun hardly shines now,” sighed the second leaf,” and when it does, it gives no warmth. We must have warmth again.” “Can it be true,” said the first leaf, “can it really be true, that others come to take our places when we’re gone and after them still others, and more and more?” “It really is true,” whispered the second leaf. “We can’t even begin to imagine it, it’s beyond our powers.” “It makes me very sad,” added the first leaf. They were very silent a while.

Then the first leaf said quietly to itself, “Why must we fall?” The second leaf asked, “What happens to us when we have fallen?” “We sink down .” “What is under us?” The first leaf answered, “I don’t know. Some say one thing, some another, but nobody knows.” The second leaf asked, “Do we feel anything, do we know anything about ourselves when we’re down there?” The first leaf answered, “Who knows? Not one of all those down there has ever come back to tell us about it.” They were silent again.

Then the first leaf said tenderly to the other, “Don’t worry so much about it you’re trembling.” “That’s nothing,” the second leaf answered, I tremble at the least thing now. I don’t feel so sure of my hold as I used to.” “Let’s not talk any more about such things,” said the first leaf. The other replied, “No, we’ll let it be. But-what else shall we talk about?”

It was silent, but went on after a little while, “Which of us will go first?” “There’s still plenty of time to worry about that,” the other leaf said reassuringly. “Lets remember how beautiful it was, how wonderful, when the sun came out and shone so warmly that we thought we’d burst with life. Do you remember? And the morning dew and the mild and splendid nights .?

“Now the nights are dreadful,” the second leaf complained, ” and there is no end to them.” “We shouldn’t complain, ” said the first leaf gently. “We’ve outlived many, many others.” “Have I changed much?” asked the second leaf shyly. “Not in the least,” the first leaf said. “You think so only because I’ve gotton to be so yellow and ugly. But it’s different in your case.” “You’re fooling me,” the second leaf said. “No, really,” the first leaf answered eagerly, “believe me, you’re as lovely as the day you were born. Here and there may be a little yellow spot. But it’s hardly noticeable and makes you only more beautiful, believe me.” “Thanks,” whispered the second leaf, quite untouched. I don’t believe you, not altogether, but I thank you because you’re so kind. You’ve always been so kind to me. I’m just beginning to understand how kind you are.

“Hush,” said the other leaf, and kept silent itself, for it was too troubled to talk any more. Then they were both silent. Hours passed. A moist wind blew, cold and hostile, through the treetops.” “Ah, now,” said the second leaf, “I ” Then it’s voice broke off. It was torn from it’s place and spun down.

Winter had come.

From the book: “Bambi a Life in the Woods”, by Felix Salten written in 1928

Road Trip!

A world-traveled Druid and a down-home Hedgewitch are touring central Canada, and are looking to meet feollow Pagans & Witches!

Dr. Brendan Myers, Ph.D. is an award-winning Canadian philosopher, writer, and public speaker. He is the author of several well-respected books on ethics, environmentalism, mythology, and Celtic spirituality. His titles include “The Other Side of Virtue”, “A Pagan Testament”, “The Mysteries of Druidry”, and “Loneliness and Revelation” (forthcoming in 2010).

Juniper Cox is an experienced practitioner of traditional hedge-craft, and the web-master of the popular Walking the Hedge website, blog and forum.

If you would like us to visit your shop, coven, grove, or circle, we are available for workshops, lectures, book-signings, and impromptu concerts! (or just hanging out)

Our tour schedule includes:

November 2: Calgary Alberta

November 4: Regina, Sask.

November 5: Winnipeg, Man.

November 7: Thunder Bay, Ont.

November 8: Sault St. Marie, Ont.

November 9: Sudbury, Ont.

November 10: Ottawa, Ont.

Please contact Brendan at bmyers33@live.ca, Juniper at juniper138@gmail.com,

Find out more about Brendan

Find Juniper on the web

If you know of someone in your area who would be willing to put us up for a night (two adults and one friendly elderly dog), please let us know as well. Many thanks!

And …

Click here

and

here.

Thanks!

Update

Please go here and update your bookmarks, thanks!

About Juniper

Most folks call me Juniper, my friends call me Juni. I am thirty years old but eternally youthful.

I have been a farmer and a city girl, a homesteader and a wanderer. I have worked in animal rescue and occult shops, art galleries, liquor stores and bead shops.

I have been practising Paganism and Witchcraft for 15 years. I am not an Elder, nor guru. I am just a messy little Hedgewitch who speaks her mind.

I hunt in thrift store jungles and gather in the wildwoods. I practice in groves and ditches, hedgerows and sea shores, basements and vacant lots.

This is my journal. It will have funny bits, rants, ramblings, ideas, poetry and more ... Take it as you please. I suggest reading with your tongue firmly in cheek.

Email: juniper@walkingthehedge.net
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