Making a Bird Feeder

We took a 4 pint plastic milk jug, cut a little ‘door’ near the base, covered it in the net from some onions so the food wouldn’t fall straight through, and used Gorilla tape to cover sharp edges and stiffen the plastic.

We’ve hung this in the garden so will report back on how effective it is! 

Pagan Pages Yule Edition

marciayuleornies

The new edition of Pagan Pages is now up and live, in beautiful, glorious technicolour! I am pleased to have four articles in this edition, including Notes from the Apothecary which is all about the Dragon Tree, plus an interview with the fantastic author Nikki Starcat Shields.

View the magazine here.

Anxiety Vs Meditation

My article this month on Pagan Pages comes from an older blog I did about trying to meditate, when your mind and body are wracked with anxiety. Chronic in my case, but reactive can be just as destructive.

Read the full blog here.

I will be doing a video talk online for the Pagan Federation Disabilities Team closer to the Winter Solstice, about suffering with anxiety and depression yet trying to maintain a magical connection. Further details to follow. I hope to see you there.

The Wind Came At Night

Sharing again for Samhain, this is a good, spooky tale! Enjoy, and may your hearths and hearts be warm.

Sounds of Time

In the days of chilling blaze

Springtime sun as winter fades

Dazzling spears and green grass blades

The gale the only blight.

Driving out to picnics gay

February turning into May

Hearts and smiles throughout the day

But the wind came at night

Batten hatch and throw the catch

Draw the curtains and the latch

Find the candle; light a match

Glow ghostly and white.

Lights to ward off what’s outside

Whatever feral monsters ride

Abroad; their entrance is denied

Though the wind comes at night.

I saw a face outside my place

Swiftly passed, as in a race

I blinked and there was not a trace

I shivered with the fright.

I ran upstairs to check again

Peering through the glass in vain

The window howled as if in pain

From the wind in the night.

Clutch the blade and don’t be swayed.

Seek the spirit! Seek the shade!

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My Sacred Space

This is a small part of my sacred indoor space. This particular section is dedicated to the Morrigan, and at times Badb, Macha and Nemain. Sometimes they come together; sometimes they are one; sometimes they are separate beings.

The skull reminds me of my own mortality, but also of our interconnectednesss with all other life. The Morrigan was closely associated with cattle, so I hope she forgives this sheep skull, which doesn’t speak too loudly to her own tales. It does, however, remind me of how close she is to death, and her ability to transform into one animal then another, and never to take any living thing for granted because of this.

The crow is her bird. It is Badb, flying across the battlefield. It is Nemain, shrieking until warriors fall dead. It is mystery, magic, and intelligence mixed with mischief.

The ribbons are the colours that I most closely associate with Irish Celtic magic; red for blood, the visceral, and the sign of magic about to happen. Black for boundaries and liminality. White for creatures from the underworld. These ribbons are entwined with green, and form a success charm that my parents made for me.

Please feel free to ask questions!

My Sacred Space

This is a small part of my sacred indoor space. This particular section is dedicated to the Morrigan, and at times Badb, Macha and Nemain. Sometimes they come together; sometimes they are one; sometimes they are separate beings.

The skull reminds me of my own mortality, but also of our interconnectednesss with all other life. The Morrigan was closely associated with cattle, so I hope she forgives this sheep skull, which doesn’t speak too loudly to her own tales. It does, however, remind me of how close she is to death, and her ability to transform into one animal then another, and never to take any living thing for granted because of this.

The crow is her bird. It is Badb, flying across the battlefield. It is Nemain, shrieking until warriors fall dead. It is mystery, magic, and intelligence mixed with mischief.

The ribbons are the colours that I most closely associate with Irish Celtic magic; red for blood, the visceral, and the sign of magic about to happen. Black for boundaries and liminality. White for creatures from the underworld. These ribbons are entwined with green, and form a success charm that my parents made for me.

Please feel free to ask questions!

Packing

Hightailed hightops

Hiding flip flops

Zips snap, studs pop

Sit on top.

Strap it in,

Chuck in bin

One more thing…

Forgetting, upsetting, regretting.

Cabin size, hold size

Just squeeze between your thighs

On your knee, spilt tea

Squashed son and mummy;

Tight flight in the night

And we might

Have to leave that at home dear.