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witchscauldronI must have felt more guilty than I thought about not consecrating things anymore. I went and did them all yesterday. Mm. Only two wands left unfinished, and my antler staff. We'll come to that later.
It duly rained, as promised, shortly after two. Not even a nice rain...cold, slashing, diagonal rain isn't my preferred type. Soaks too quickly, leaves you chilled to the bone, and it was pouring. For the most part we stayed in and listened to it, rather that go out and walk in it. I am, however, now resupplied with paganish things like candles and incense, and the cats have food.
Last night, tho...it was something else. Smoky sky - not the midnight bluegrey of older memories, but smoky amber, tainted by city light. Normally I abhor light pollution, but this was different. Warm, despite the cold north in the air. And wind. Not one of those tree-limb ripping winds...just enough to make the new leaves whisper and sigh and sway.
My tiny corner of "yard", while still filled with some of the former tenant's industrial waste, discarded dead branches, and the like, is MUCH cleaner than it used to be. If I could give it a rake and lie some seed down, there'd almost be a small, natural patch of yard there that I could call my sacred space. As it stands there is only my chosen maple that acts as my Bíle there, so I stand as well. Sometime I would like to be able to sit and meditate under that tree. Ah well.
I digress. So...windblown trees, whispering wind, cool and fresh from rain. Yes, those were the conditions. I felt, as I did the night before and the night before that, a call...lessened, of course, by the fact I did in fact get into ritual space finally, but a call nonetheless. The wind always calls. I want to fly away sometimes...but obviously I'm not of the flyaway physique. The closest I can get is simply feeling it. I can't really ever ground when it's too windy - I'm always a bit out of it.
I slowly turned the house lights out, lighting a few candles for company in the kitchen. Jason curled up into his bed, warm and snug, and I must have looked a sight - nightgown, old warm sweater overtop, tights underneath. At the last minute I decided to take my antler staff out with me. I wasn't planning to be long...but then, I wasn't really planning. I just was going.
I stood out under my little tree. Its' hangings of feathers and tokens twisted and danced, as did the feathers on the staff. I retreated under its branches with pleasure - it has grown so much in two years. :) With all the new leaves on the tree, it is a stark contrast to the thin, spindly image it gives in winter. I melted into the shadow, away from the streetlight, caressed by green, and closed my eyes.
The staff was practically singing.
It's never done that before. I finished it in the fall, but haven't really known what to do with it, but I could feel it drawing wind and earth together, coiling around it, down the antler and up from the ground. I looked at the damp soil under me, the fire burning in the staff for the first time, the water dripping off the Bíle onto my hands. I felt the wind across my face, in my hair...and I realized I'd consecrated the staff. Or rather, it had consectrated itself.
I said something, not really sure what, about blessing and conscrating it blah blah blah...but I don't really remember it, and I'm not sure it was really nescessary. I wandered back into the house, set the staff back into the corner of the bedroom, and lit some incense in the kitchen. Watching it coil around, slinking about in loops and swirls in candlelight...magick is afoot. :) A pleasant way to end a night.
Now if I could just wake up! O_o
-M.
It duly rained, as promised, shortly after two. Not even a nice rain...cold, slashing, diagonal rain isn't my preferred type. Soaks too quickly, leaves you chilled to the bone, and it was pouring. For the most part we stayed in and listened to it, rather that go out and walk in it. I am, however, now resupplied with paganish things like candles and incense, and the cats have food.
Last night, tho...it was something else. Smoky sky - not the midnight bluegrey of older memories, but smoky amber, tainted by city light. Normally I abhor light pollution, but this was different. Warm, despite the cold north in the air. And wind. Not one of those tree-limb ripping winds...just enough to make the new leaves whisper and sigh and sway.
My tiny corner of "yard", while still filled with some of the former tenant's industrial waste, discarded dead branches, and the like, is MUCH cleaner than it used to be. If I could give it a rake and lie some seed down, there'd almost be a small, natural patch of yard there that I could call my sacred space. As it stands there is only my chosen maple that acts as my Bíle there, so I stand as well. Sometime I would like to be able to sit and meditate under that tree. Ah well.
I digress. So...windblown trees, whispering wind, cool and fresh from rain. Yes, those were the conditions. I felt, as I did the night before and the night before that, a call...lessened, of course, by the fact I did in fact get into ritual space finally, but a call nonetheless. The wind always calls. I want to fly away sometimes...but obviously I'm not of the flyaway physique. The closest I can get is simply feeling it. I can't really ever ground when it's too windy - I'm always a bit out of it.
I slowly turned the house lights out, lighting a few candles for company in the kitchen. Jason curled up into his bed, warm and snug, and I must have looked a sight - nightgown, old warm sweater overtop, tights underneath. At the last minute I decided to take my antler staff out with me. I wasn't planning to be long...but then, I wasn't really planning. I just was going.
I stood out under my little tree. Its' hangings of feathers and tokens twisted and danced, as did the feathers on the staff. I retreated under its branches with pleasure - it has grown so much in two years. :) With all the new leaves on the tree, it is a stark contrast to the thin, spindly image it gives in winter. I melted into the shadow, away from the streetlight, caressed by green, and closed my eyes.
The staff was practically singing.
It's never done that before. I finished it in the fall, but haven't really known what to do with it, but I could feel it drawing wind and earth together, coiling around it, down the antler and up from the ground. I looked at the damp soil under me, the fire burning in the staff for the first time, the water dripping off the Bíle onto my hands. I felt the wind across my face, in my hair...and I realized I'd consecrated the staff. Or rather, it had consectrated itself.
I said something, not really sure what, about blessing and conscrating it blah blah blah...but I don't really remember it, and I'm not sure it was really nescessary. I wandered back into the house, set the staff back into the corner of the bedroom, and lit some incense in the kitchen. Watching it coil around, slinking about in loops and swirls in candlelight...magick is afoot. :) A pleasant way to end a night.
Now if I could just wake up! O_o
-M.
