Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.

John Muir

Latest from the Blog

Brigantia of the Rushing Waters

I stepped down onto the rocky bank of the creek and looked down the flow of it, and I knew I was in a sacred place. It was striking, with the mountains arcing upward from the creek itself, trees lining either side, boulders jutting up from the bed of the stone-laden creek. The water rushed…

Some Thoughts on Witchcraft

My friend Snow of Cibear Fhoraois Sneachta recently sent this YouTube video from Cabra Woodwell of Steel City Witch to me. Snow and I have had conversations in the past about what qualifies as witchcraft, both historically and currently. It’s a slippery word, and Woodwell pins down precisely why: 1) the definition is founded on…

A Fall Holiday Procession in South-Central Appalachia

I’d have loved to celebrate Lùnastal last week, but the corn harvest doesn’t start until September down here. Right now, it’s still high summer and the idea of a “first harvest” totally conflicts with the character of the season. The better first harvest holiday date for me would be on Labor Day weekend: corn is…

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