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… Continue reading Brigantia of the Rushing Waters
Roanoke is a liminal place, a place of travel, crossroads, and temporary rest and sustenance along a much greater journey. The Mother of Roanoke seems to me a liminal Goddess of journeys and crossroads as well as hospitality.