The Ramblings and Wanderings

Posts Tagged ‘Nature Witch’

Once upon a time …

Long ago, when the Human race was still young and new to this world Humanity lived in caves and in tents made of wood and animal hides. Humanity had learned to harness the power of fire and to control it. Humanity had learned to kill the other creatures of the Earth and to use their body parts for more than just food. All the other creatures of the Earth had learned to fear Humanity, for Humanity had become a mighty hunter and had begun to range far and wide over the landscape.

Mother Earth loved all her creatures but She loved Humanity best. For through Humanity could She perceive Herself in all Her glory. She could watch the Sun rise through Human eyes; feel the wind blow against Human skin, taste meat and fruit with Human tongue. She could feel what it was to make love, experience the thrill of the hunt and She learned about the fear of death.

That the Mother loved Humanity best also caused the other creatures to fear them. Many creatures learned to run at the sight or smell of Humanity but some did not. Some creatures liked the taste of Human flesh and others would fight Humanity if they should try to hunt them.

Wolf feared Humanity. Much more than that, Wolf feared Humanities fires. The thought that Humanity dared to bring fire into their dens filled them with fright. Fire was far too dangerous to have in one’s den! Wolf learned to stay away from Humanity.

One day, however, a young she Wolf was walking through the woods and caught the scent of blood on the air. She was very hungry, for she carried pups in her womb. Her pack mates had been killed by a bad Winter and she had no one to help her hunt. She followed the delicious smell, her stomach rumbling with hunger. When she saw where the smell was coming from she shivered with fright, for the smell came from just outside a Human den. The smell of meat was so strong she could not turn away. So she hid and she watched the frightful Humans.

She watched Humanity carve hide and flesh off a kill and divide its parts amongst them. She watched with horror as they burned flesh over a large fire. Yet she stayed, for the smell of the meat made her pups move within her. She stayed out of hope. Then she watched as one Human took some bones, scraps and other things out of the Human den and walk away from it. Silently she stalked the Human, watching his every move. The Human took the scraps and placed them into a shallow pit a ways down a Human trail from the Human den. Then, he left.

The she Wolf waited as long as she dared, to see if any Human would return to the pit. She whined. Fear and hunger waged a war within her; finally the need to feed her pups won and she slunk out of the bushes and into the pit. There she found and snatched a bone that still had meat clinging to it and ran off, back into the bushes. She did this three more times through the night until at last, her belly was full.

Wolf made a den not far from the Human scrap pit and she stole food from it late at night. Then as the Moon full and high in the sky, she gave birth to five pups. Wolf ate the placentas and cleaned the pups; she fed them with good milk thanks to the food she had gotten from the Human pit. Once her pups bellies were full and they slept, she snuck out of the den and went as far from them as she dared, to mark territory in the way that Wolves do and to gaze up at the Moon. She spoke a prayer of gratitude to the Mother for her healthy pups, her safe den and the Human pit.

Wolf taught her pups how to steal from the Human pits and they also learned how to stalk Humans as the Humans stalked their prey. Wolf and her pups cleaned up the Human kills once they returned to their Human den. Wolf’s pups and their pups grew to understand Humanity more as they watched them. They grew to fear them less and less. They made their dens near the Human den.

Then another bad Winter came. The freezing cold brought sickness to the small Wolf pack and many died. Only a few pups who had just begun to be weaned survived. They cried and cried for their mother but she never came. One by one, they began to die themselves until there was only one. The last pup dared to climb out of the den in search of her mother and cried for her. She was so very, very cold she knew if she had no warm mother soon she would die. Then something came towards her and she cowered in fright. The thing picked her up and held her close. The smell of a Human scared the Wolf pup greatly, but then she realised she was warm, snuggled within the furs the Human wore. She found herself being lulled to sleep by this warmth and by the sound of the Human’s heartbeat.

The bad Winter had also not been kind to Humanity. The sickness the Winter brought had taken a child from this Human woman and she had walked the woods in mourning. When she heard the cries of the pup she had been filled with the power of the Mother and could not turn away and leave the pup to die. The Human took the pup back to her den.

The other Humans were afraid, for they feared Wolf. But the wisest Human among them saw the Mother within the woman who had brought Wolf into their den and spoke on her behalf. The woman took the pup into her part of the den and she cared for her. She fed her scraps of meat mixed with her own milk, milk she had no child to give to. She raised her as if she was her child and grew to love her.

As the pup grew into a Wolf she began to leave the Human den more and more, answering the need to be a Wolf. However something magical had happened, for in the time the pup was in the Human den, Humanity had learned about Wolf and Wolf had learned about Humanity.

This Wolf remembered the love she had been given by the Human woman and she taught this love to her own pups. Those pups were less afraid of Humanity than any other Wolves had ever been, for they knew how to love a Human and not to fear Humanity. Their pups grew even bolder and so did their love for Humanity. Humanity learned not only to respect and fear Wolf, but also how to love Wolf.

Eventually the Wolves of the Humans were free of their fear of Humanity and only full of love for them. Humanity called these Wolves “Dog”. The Dogs changed their shapes, colors and sizes to better suit Humanity and Humanity grew to love Dog as one loves a best friend. Dog’s love for Humanity grew so great that of all the Mother’s creatures, Dog’s love runs the deepest, even deeper than Humanities’ love.

With this love and with the remembered gratitude of the Wolf who was hungry and the pup who was cold, Dog has ever served Humanity. Dog freely gives up life and limb, freedom and the woods to be in the company of Humanity.

Without the service of Dog, Humanity would have struggled even harder to learn to herd animals, to protect crops and their dens. Humanity would not have a warm Dog to snuggle when the Winters are bad. Without the service, love and loyalty of Dog, Humanity would not be what it is today.

Above all this however, the greatest service Dog has ever provided Humanity is the ongoing lesson of unconditional love.

The end

Last night I dreamed I was sitting in a grove with a lineaged Traditional Witch or Wiccan.

I am not sure which Path she was on exactly, dreams are like that, but I knew she was hard-nosed Traditional.

We were discussing our different world views and Paths.

She leaned against a large grey boulder or small standing stone and said:

“My Path is like this stone, strong and old; a solid foundation upon which to build.”

Then she pointed to a pile of leaf litter and compost by my feet.

She spoke with smugness when she said:

“Your Path is like a pile of compost, a bunch of different stuff collected in a shapeless heap.”

I was not injured by her words.

I reached out and stirred the compost pile with my hand.

I said:

“Yes. But you can grow things in a compost heap.”

And thus a riot of wild flowers, ivy and herbs sprang forth from the compost and leaf litter.

Covering it with new, fresh, young growth.

I plucked a ripe, red fruit from a Wild Strawberry and asked:

“Can you eat your rock?”

I turned towards her, waiting for an answer.

But she and her rock had been covered over with moss, they had become one.

She could not speak, she could not move.

I said:

“Moss does not grow on a rolling stone.”

I ate my strawberry in the silence, watching the herbs in my compost pile grow.

I am a farm girl; I “get” the lambing season at Imbolg as I have spent many sleepless nights in the barn, praying to Brighid as I midwife livestock. I don’t need to be reminded of where my food comes from, I have grown it!

I don’t need a lesson to tell me how to experience the elements, I have lived in them, and I have worked in them. I have been up to my knees in frozen mud and in snow, with the winter sun beating down on me as I fix the horse fencing. I have had a wind burned face, a sun burned nose and frost bitten toes.

I have lived at the edge of endless wilderness all my life. I have performed rituals in a real grove. I have done meditations under an elder tree that is older than my country. I backpack into the wild on a regular basis, I have had bears on my property in spring and summer, fishes spawning in my creeks in fall, and moose that walked by my house each morning.

I have touched a shrine to Epona on my way into the stable each day. I have poured offerings to Taranis when ever the storms loom close and threaten the seedlings newly planted. I have sung to Danu when I walk the fields. I have praised Cernnunos as my hound and I track wild rabbit.

I adore wildcrafting and learning the native plants of an area. I have dozens of field guides. I love learning about animal tracks and all of that. I love being bale to walk through a landscape and know what grows/lives where and why.

My connection with Nature is largely through animals, a result for farming and working in animal rescue, as well as the wild. Thanks to living in places where I have accesses to it as well as being raised by the kind of Dad who teaches his daughter orienteering for fun on the weekends.

Formal gardening is an area I am not a strong at. My mother and grandmother have terrific green thumbs and are amazing gardeners. Things just come naturally to them. Anywhere my Mom is, things grow bigger and greener than they “ought” to be. This didn’t happen for me, so I was put off a little when I was younger, feeling frustrated and inadequate.

I am a much better container gardener for some odd reason. Also I do very well with xeriscaping and growing native plants, that are happier to be allowed to do their own thing for the most part, rather than working with finicky rose bushes like my Mom.

As for the home I talk to house spirits and they are normal to me in a rather odd way. I have a kitchen shrine and a house altar and a sunroom shrine. Honestly I feel quite unhappy, even a little anxious not having my shrines up, they are such a part of my life now.

The gods and spirits get fed regularly, usually home made biscuits or something along those lines. The ancestors have a permanent place on the house altar, where they get acknowledged everyday.

I love to cook, though I am no expert. I love to bake more and have a little notebook I cram with hand written recipes. I love to experiment with food and make a terrible mess in the kitchen.

I always have a Birth of Venus hanging in my bathroom, a witch ladder somewhere, broom by or above the door, witch balls hung in the window etc

I love having a magickal home, living in an enchanted world. My poor man, Dr. Philosopher has to adjust to it. Just the other day he dared to put a half full tea cup on the shelf with my herbalism gear, which is below the house altar! He got a “tsk tsk” for that!

Having recently moved into the city, I have to adjust to pulling the blind down if I want to wander around naked, setting off smoke detectors with smudge sticks and having not moonlight but streetlight coming in through the window.

It’s easier to not notice the big maple tree on the corner when in the city. I find myself talking down to house plants in a way I’d never do to potted juniper on the front stoop, let alone a 100 year old elder tree!

A Simple Life

By Kat Ballew

Cows grazing on the mountain side

horses running wild along the seaside

Birds singing as they journey past

and old men telling tales that are unsurpassed

Butterflies fluttering their wings in the breeze

And the sun doing everything to appease

This is the simple life of living

This is a day of thanksgiving

The tumbleweed rolls across the desert floor

The owl sings a song and is the nights decor

The fireflies flash their lights in harmony

And the crickets they do play for all a symphony

The waters rush up to scare the shores

The milky way dips and peace from it pours

The wolf howls out but the moon is not afraid

A simple life for nothing would I trade

In the deepest and darkest slumber

When the world is plunged in cold and snow

The Earth rests gripped in the heart of Winter

Cloaked in ice and freezing winds that harshly blow

The King who wears the Holly crown

Sits high upon His icy throne

*

We with one ear pressed to the frozen ground

Do hear the sounds of returning warmth

With creaks and groans the Goddess gives birth

To a Son of Oak and light and mirth

Just as the Sun begins its slow return

*

As the Oak babe is suckled and fed

A meal of warming earth and melting snow

The Holly King begins to feel his age

As crocus blooms and tulips push through

Holly knows his time is near an end

Youth no more, now a wise sage

*

On the day that we call Equinox

Young Oak and old Holly now

Stand as equals in the Earth’s heart

Though we know that some day soon

Sadly one will have to depart

*

And so the chase has begun

Round from Winter to Summer’s return

Oak gives chase as Holly leads the race

When wise old Holly can no longer run

He draws a sword against His own Son

A clash of sword and smash of staves

Holly will not easily give way

*

The Lord of Misrule rests in death

Wearing his Ivy and Holly crown

He awaits rebirth with Summer’s peak

The Lord of Sun-lit woodlands

Wears his Ash and Oaken crown

He rules now until the Autumn breeze

The Lady of the great green Earth

Wears her hawthorn and blossom crown

She now prepares for her wedding feast

*

We honour the Flower Maiden, who blesses the blooms

Who is made of meadowsweet, oak-blossom and broom

We are the ones who dance with the Blooming Bride

Ancient and modern rites to celebrate May-tide

*

In the brightest and warmest of celebrations

When the land burst with life and growth

The Sun hangs hot in a blue sky

Blessing our crops and herds and our lives

The King in his Oaken crown

Walks the land with stag by His side

*

We who play and dig in the dirt

Feel the winds shift and the world turn

With a rustle of the wheat field and the ripening of fruit

The Goddess birth a Son of Ivy and Holly too

Now the Sun peaks and begins to wane

*

We honour the Summer Queen, Maiden no longer

Who brings berries and fruit and makes the days stronger

We gathered to witness Her pledge her troth

Where bud and blossom Promise to us Summer’s growth

Summer Queen we thank you for the fertile and abundant land

*

Now the Holly child begin to grow

Fed on the first fruits of the Summer

His waxing strength turns the land towards Autumn

Oak King grows from wild young Hunter

To resting wise Lord ready for slumber

He raises His hand and the land He does bless

The last of His love He gives to the Earth Mother

*

The second Equinox now begins

With Autumn rains and cooling winds

Elderly Oak and youthful Holly

Are once again balanced in harmony

We gather the Harvest and wait for the Hunt

*

It seems that before we know it

We huddle inside and we run and we hide

From the first frosts and from the Wild Hunt

The last of the Harvest is tucked in storage

As Holly tracks Oak with spear in hand

Father and Son, Brother to Brother

They begin that ancient struggle

*

The King of Sun-lit woodlands deep

Gives up His flowered and Oaken crown

He awaits rebirth with Winter’s peak

The Lady of the abundant Earth

Adorned in Her darkest gown

Weds her Holly King and then She

Prepares for Winter’s sleep

The Lord of Misrule takes the throne

Wearing His Ivy and Holly crown

He will rule ’till Spring birds sing

*

We honour the icy Crone, who is also our Mother

Winter winds do shake Her bower

With Her Earthly gifts tucked safely in storage

Meat and grains and fruit dried and put away

We deck the halls and build up the fire

*

And so we will lovingly tend that fire

Pour offerings and make merry

All in Their honour

We sing songs in Their praise

We drum and we dance

With the good Gods

Around the great Wheel

That never stops turning