The steel rails of the El Train roar as they screech, bright sparks illuminating red against frosty wheels.  The wooden train platform is high and narrow, the wind whipping through the splintered slats and rusted rivets.  I pull my scarf close and try to find the gloves inside my bag.  It’s an inhuman kind of cold in the city today.  Only late November, I know that the winds will only become stronger as they howl endlessly through the empty branches and brick alleyways.  

Photo from artist Daniel Vazquez

As the last of November is swept away along with the remaining leaves, it’s hard to look towards the cold months ahead and think warmly.   But as witches, we know we must do so. For we are the stewards of the seasons; guardians of the subtle natural changes that others ignore.  And it is up to us to find beauty in all aspects of the wheel of the year.  

For me that means respecting the bitter cold of Chicago, something difficult to do as the temperatures free fall and the daylight hours seem to slip through my fingers.  But then again, I remember the previous years and I know that beneath the bitter cold and darkness there will be much beauty and power to be found.  

I know that when the snows begin to fall they will cover the grey dirt and grime of the streets, making our roads glimmer diamond in the morning light.  Along with the cold winds, the air becomes clear and the moonlight shines brighter.  I remember times last winter as I walked towards the lake and saw the wild waters crash against sandy shores.  The winds formed sand dunes into great monolithic structures of ice and frost.  Standing nearby I could feel the wild uncontrollable power of the waves.  A feeling that reminded me that we individuals are only minor players among the greater powers.  For in winter, we are reminded that we are beholden to nature and such knowledge gives us a greater appreciation and connection to the spirits of the wild.    

As witches, we are the ones that take notice and tap into this power.  To feel the rush of those winter winds run through our veins.  To stand beneath the moon and have its light bathe our skin.  Such feelings are available to all, yet only us witches aim to understand them.  Only us witches take the time to harness and use these powerful forces. Our winter walks become a subversive act against the complacency of those that shut themselves in and ignore the power and beauty to behold.

Remembering all this I am comforted as stand upon the wooden platform waiting for my train.  I watch a solitary leaf fall and dance between bare branches before meeting the ground.  I smile as I observe the empty trees swaying in the wind.  For as the last of the leaves fall and crumble against the frost, I know the great wilds of winter are storming in.  A power and energy I look forward to seeing and working with again.

A full moon approaches.  The November moon is called the Beaver Moon, an ode to a time when people were more connected to the earth and the wild.  This moon once signified a time when beaver pelts were at the height of warmth and beauty.  As the moon approached hunters knew it would be their last chance to go into the woods to trap the beavers.  For by the time of the next moon-cycle it would be too late, the lakes would be frozen and the beavers asleep.  The light of the November moon guided them as a last glimmer of warmth before reaching the cold season.

The Beaver Moon will be unusually special this year as it will also be a Super Moon.  This Monday the moon will appear larger than it has since the 1940s.  The moon will also appear brighter than usual as it will be closer to Earth at this time of year.  If there was ever a time to go outside and marvel at its beauty, this is it.

The November moon is a time of quiet anticipation of the winter season ahead.  The nights are ever so long and the cold winds brush the last of the leaves to the ground.  I walked along the shores of Lake Michigan this morning.  I could feel the season was on the edge of a precipice.  It was a beautiful autumn this year and filled with many bright and glowing hours of warmth.  The leaves fell slowly this season, holding on to their vivid oranges and reds before drifting lightly to the ground.  Yet, as a wrapped my scarf around my neck by the lake this morning, I could feel the impending chill.  The brown leaves crumbled beneath my boots above empty branches and my cheeks tinged pink as I walked on.  The frost was coming and would hold its grip on Chicago for many months to come.

When I returned to my warm apartment, I turned on the kettle to make some camomile tea and I pulled out my tarot cards.  I was not surprised when the Hermit appeared in my reading.  

The Hermit suggests you are about to enter a phase of introspection as your focus turns inward.  It is a time when you seek solitude and isolation from others.  The Hermit asks you to grow and respect the spiritual wisdom within.  Great advise for the beginnings of the winter season.  

Below is a simple full moon ritual that can be performed to honor the Goddess.  

November Moon Esbat Ritual

This is an Esbat in the Wiccan tradition with passages adapted from Hold an Esbat Rite by Patti Wigington and Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham

This ritual is best performed outside under the full moon.  

If your tradition asks you to cast a circle begin by doing so.  Or, you can ritually purify the area by smudging or sprinkling salt water around the ritual space.

Place your altar in the center of the sacred space or if you are outside simply find a clearing and lay your tools down upon the earth.

You will need:

• A bowl of water

• A white candle

• A black marker or knife to draw upon the candle

• A cup of wine

• A plate with a biscuit or cookie

• Any additional lunar symbols such as images of the goddess, mirrors, white crystals and flowers, silver ribbons, etc.

Begin by carving or drawing a moon symbol or sigil onto the white candle.  I drew the symbol of the triple goddess upon mine.

Turn towards the moon, open your arms wide, tilt your face to the stars and say:

Wondrous lady of the moon;
you who greets the dusk with silvered kisses;
mistress of the night and of all magics,
who rides the clouds in blackened skies
and spills light upon the cold earth;
O lunar Goddess,
crescented-one,
shadow maker and shadow breaker;
revealer of mysteries past and present;
puller of seas and ruler of women;
all-wise lunar Mother,
I greet your celestial jewel
at the waxing of its powers
with a rite in your honor
I pray by the moon,
I pray by the moon,
I pray by the moon.

Light the candle and spend a few moments reflecting on the warmth of the flame and meditating on the seasonal changes occurring.

Hold the bowl of water to the sky and say:

The moon is the symbol of the mother,
and she watches over us day and night.
She brings the changing tide, the shifting night,
the flow that changes women's bodies,
and the passion of lovers to their beloved.
Her wisdom is great and all-knowing,
and we honor her tonight.
Keep your watchful eyes upon us, great mother,
until the cycle returns once more,
and bring us to the next full moon,
in your love and light.

Meditate on all the things you're thankful for and what you wish to achieve by the next full moon.  Visualize your energy swirling and flowing into the water.

If you would like you can also do some scrying using the bowl of water or using a crystal sphere at this time.

(After the ritual is complete you will be able to place the moon water in a bottle and use it throughout the month in your spellwork.)

Next take up your cup of wine and hold it towards the sky and say:

Gracious Goddess of abundance,
Bless this wine and infuse it with your love.
In your names, Mother Goddess and Father God,
I bless this wine.

Hold up your plate with the biscuit or cookie and and say:

Powerful God of the harvest,
bless these cakes and infuse them with your love.
In your names, Mother Goddess and Father God,
I bless these cakes (or bread).

End the ritual with your simple feast of ‘cakes and ale’ and by thanking the goddess.  

Across from one of the oldest taverns in the city of Chicago lies Rosehill Cemetery.  This Victorian-era resting place is the largest in the city and it’s stone walls appear to go on for miles.  I often saw glimmers of this cemetery along my daily commute on the L train, though I had not yet walked it’s labyrinthine pathways.  That is, until today.  

This morning the air in the city was filled with that uniquely autumn smell.  Pleasant, yet difficult to describe.  Some kind of petrichor from the morning dew combined with the subtle decay of plant life.  The air was crisp, tinged with a note of the upcoming winter months.  My leather boots crunched across the brown leaves scattered along the sidewalk as I walked to get my morning coffee and contemplate my plans.  It was one of those perfect autumn days, a prime backdrop for an adventure.

I went alone, for I find cemetery visits are best without casual chitchat.  Approaching the cemetery I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with a massive entrance.  The wrought iron gate melded into beautiful limestone towers with detailed embrasures.  A red vine snaked along the opening leading my way through the arch.  

I meandered along several paths through the cemetery letting the statues lead me.  I saw a large quantity of striking angels and obelisks scattered throughout.  Through it was the trees that truly captivated me.  The leaves fell in waves of burgundy and scattered among the tombstones.  The canopy shaded the paths and dappled sunlight glimmered across the branches.  

As this was a spur of the moment journey, I did not think to collect any graveyard dirt.  Though next time I visit, I will be sure to collect some.  Graveyard dirt is a crucial ingredient in many spells.  If you do decide to go about collecting graveyard dirt, It’s best to not actually dig into the earth.  Instead, simply gather a handful of surface dirt.  Or, you can collect the dust atop a tombstone.  Afterwards, leave a small offering like a coin or libation to appease the spirits.  Graveyard dirt can be used for both positive and malevolent purposes.  Below is an example of a spell using graveyard dirt from The Encyclopedia of 5,000 Spells by Judika Illes.  

Protection From a Loved One Beyond the Grave

Step 1: Fill a red bag with a small amount of dirt taken from the grave site of a loved one.  Also add one flower from the funeral and a pebble from the cemetery.

Step 2: Anoint the bag with drop of the deceased’s favorite perfume or cologne.  This bag can be worn or carried with you as a protective charm.

Have you used graveyard dirt in a spell before?  Post your own experiences using this ingredient in the comments below.

We gathered ‘round the old churchyard.  Once an ancient pagan site, now littered with unknown graves and crooked cobblestones.  

Yet underneath the stones and bodies, there remains an ancient power. A power that still resonates and electrifies the air.  A memory of people long gone who once danced among a circle of stones much different that these grave markers before us.  Most of that history now forgotten, but truth is on our side.  For tonight is our realm, and our spirit takes a grip that holds upon this place.

Cold wind blows into the skin as we start the fire in the center of our circle.  The fire crackles as the twigs snap and break as they burn.  Gathered hand in hand,  we danse macabre around the fire burning strong.  And as we dance, wIth each step, we move downwards in a spiral among this ring of shadows.

As a cloud reveals the hidden moon, it appears the spirits and ancestors have heard our call.  Thick smoke rises and flows between us for on this night the veil between worlds comes to meet our intentions.  Gentle whispers are heard as wisps of smoke past beyond my outstretched arm.  The sublime energy opens my eyes wide and sends shivers down my spine.

It seems a great paradox, for as we dance and move closer towards the veil, is when we feel most alive.  For your heart can not be full without that rush of fear.  

We all dance together ‘round the fire.  The spirits and ancestors twirling and weaving among our bodies.  Our energy rises to the stars till we eventually collapse to the ground and the soft grasses temper our weight.  And as I lay down upon the earth, I see the smoke and fog dissipate as it flows back beyond the veil, waiting for our next encounter.

We drove down County Road X through the woods of Alabama.  The county had never bothered to pave anywhere this remote so the journey was rough and the rocks cracked under the tires as we headed along the shaded path.  Reaching the crest of a hill we followed a fork in the road to reach our lodge.  The path stopped before a set of large black gates.  The top of the gate was detailed in the shape of a deer head fitted with large red glass eyes and reminded me of something you might see at Malfoy manor.  It was strange to think that just hours before I had been moving through the city of Chicago, rushing past hundreds of people going about their business.  And now, here I was in the middle of nowhere in a state most Chicagoans look on with fear and disdain.  And to be fair, some of the stereotypes were true.  As we moved through the gate and into the large cabin we would be staying, we found countless indication that this was a place for hunters and that we, us city folk, were clearly out of place.

While I was there to visit some distant relatives, I made sure to find time to escape and venture on my own through the many acres of woods that made up the property.   For someone used to the incessant racket of city noise, the absence of it was unsettling at first.  Though the ability to be completely surrounded by nature was refreshing and much needed.  At home in the city I often can only look at the moon through a window, or perhaps in a city park.  It is rare that I get to experience nature alone.  But here, in the woods of Alabama it seemed that everything was different.  

As the sun set I made my way to a small pond deep in a valley.  The trees down by the river were magnificent, and the riotous colors shone bright through the waters reflection.  As I walked towards the water's edge it became clear that this was a place not owned by people, but by the animals and spirits of the woods.

An October song of leaves scattered about my boots as I snaked between the trees.  The trees swayed as the wind whipped through the leaves, the cracking branches forming an uncanny rhythm.  As the sky began to darken I turned on my Coleman lantern and that was when the sensation of being truly alone at night in an unfamiliar place hit me.  The fear began to settle in as my hair twirled and whipped in the wind, framing my face.  My eyes were wide and stared intently as I looked ahead into the darkness.  My heart beat fast beneath my skin.  My ears were sensitive to every crunch of leaf and snap of twig.  While the breeze was warm, I felt like a bag of bones, chattering against the wind.   I found a small clearing where I could sit and I stayed there among the trees for several minutes till my heart began to calm down enough where I could begin to sense the energy of the woods.

As I shut my eyes and surrendered to the darkness, I could feel what I’ve been missing.  In the city I work with the frenetic energy and magic of the hive.  The great swarm of people, industry, and memory.  This, however, was a deeper, darker, and more profound energy.  And just as a horse can sense your nervous inexperience, the guardians of the woods could tell that I was out of place and out of practice.  To tell the truth I felt guilty.  Why was I feeling fear?  Shouldn’t all witches feel comfort in the darkness of the woods?  I couldn't remember the last time I entered the woods alone.  How could I claim to be a witch without regularly working with this dark energy of the wild?   

After a few minutes of meditative silence I preformed a simple ritual thanking the God and Goddess and then headed back up to the main trail.  

This experience was somehow much more personal and deep than other experiences I’ve had with nature in the city.  When I go to various parks in the city the knowledge that civilization nearby is comforting, but it is also limiting.  Maybe the fear I felt in the woods was a necessary part of reaching through the veil and building a relationship with the other world.

I understand that not everyone can live in the countryside.  Though this trip was short it gave me an aching to make more effort to go to the wild places.  The places untamed by people.  It was bittersweet to leave the woods and return to Chicago.  Though, I will maintain the memory of the wild energy I felt in those Alabama woods and I will work tirelessly to find ways to reconnect with it again. 

Simple Ritual to Thank to Spirits of the Woods

Inspired from a ritual in Living Wicca by Scott Cunningham

As you walk alone towards a body of water collect autumn leaves that have fallen to the ground.  Upon reaching the water’s edge find a seat and cast a circle if you would like.  As you float the leaves one by one upon the water visualize your reason for the ritual.  Remember why you are thanking the God and Goddess.  As the leaves float away say the following words:

Lady of the moon, of the stars, and the earth;
Lord of the sun, of the forests, and the wild;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Lady of the waters, of flowers, and the sea;
Lord of the air, of horns, and of fire;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Lady of the caves, of cats, and snakes;
Lord of the plains, of falcons, and stags;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Do you have a ritual you like to perform alone in the woods?  Let me know in the comments below. 

A friend said something the other day that really struck a chord with me.  We were riding the L train in Chicago and I mentioned how much I love the fresh feeling of fall, and how the season always feels like starting a new chapter in my life.  She said that I was probably feeling that way because for the majority of our lives the feelings of fall were associated with starting a new school year.  That certainly made sense to me.  I always loved school growing up and come August I would eagerly look forward to the first day of a new school year.  I loved picking out fresh notebooks and pencils at the office supply store and I definitely enjoyed agonizing over what I would wear on that first day back. 

I was hit with a flash of melancholy as I realized that those feelings were never going to fully return.  They were a memory of childhood and not easily found in adulthood.  As a child, your year is dictated by the school schedule and anticipating those long breaks.  I paid attention to the changing seasons as each one had its own excitement and promise of things to come.  Fall was associated with sadness about the end of summer, but also filled with excitement for the new adventures that would come next.  Winter was all about looking forward to that big break in December, a time of family, presents, and playing outside in the snow.  In spring, you eagerly anticipated the long spring break where you could almost feel the beginnings of warmth and sun start to sweep in.  And finally Summer, a time of freedom and days that seemed to last forever.  

In a way, my life was never more attuned to the wheel of the year than as a child.

Now as an adult my work schedule is almost completely devoid of seasonal change.  Work culture is driven by profit and only grudging tolerates seasonal holidays, and would gladly eradicate them if allowed.  The lens through which work culture lives is one of quarterly earnings, not seasonal rhythm.  

I think one of the things I really enjoy about Paganism is that it forces you to once again recognize the seasons.  It encourages you to appreciate the unique changes as the wheel turns.  Maybe that’s why when I started practicing, it felt in a way like coming home.  It allowed me to feel all those excitements about the changing seasons that I once felt as a child.  

As the leaves change and begin to fall, one of the best ways to reconnect yourself with this season is by going apple picking.  I used to go apple picking with my family every year growing up.  Though as I got older and moved away, it often became “too difficult” or “too far away” to fit in my busy schedule.  This year when I finally made it to an orchard I was able to reconnect with all those amazing autumnal feelings I had as a child.  As we left the city and ventured to the countryside it felt like I was able to momentarily leave my cares behind in the city and venture forth towards fresh air and mental clarity.  

In the orchard I made a conscious effort to notice the colors of the trees, the smell of cider brewing, and the crunch of discarded apples beneath my feet.  Taking time to notice the small details forced me to slow down and left me feeling refreshed and more connected to nature.  

This little momentary escape from my daily city routine helped me remember that the seasons are here for us to enjoy and respect.  And as I walked between the trees, each breath was a lovely memory of what it used to feel like being more connected to the changing seasons.  

I hope this is just the beginning of my reconnection to the seasons and I look forward to the many new seasonal memories and connections I will create.

I don’t usually read manga but I often make an exception for the horror genre.  Some of the best horror comes out of Japan, so I did not hesitate to purchase one such manga titled Uzumaki by Junji Ito.  Junji Ito is a horror manga master and this work could be considered his magnum opus. This manga is a large tome dedicated to a single story of a town plagued by a symbol, giving this book a truly unique premise.  Uzumaki means spiral in Japanese and it is this symbol that becomes the focus and main terror in this work.

I love that Ito chose the spiral to base this work upon.  Not only does the spiral shape have a profound mathematical significance, spirals also hold a prominent place in many pagan beliefs. Artwork with spirals begin to appear as early as 4000 BCE in Europe and in 3200 BCE the Celts covered the prehistoric site of Newgrange in triple spiral imagery.  Beyond Europe, the spiral appears in many other ancient cultures from early pre-columbian art in Mexico to architectural details from the Tang Dynasty in China.  It is truly one of the most familiar and profound early symbols.

In Uzumaki, the spirals begin to appear throughout the town in various ways, among blades of grass, in the swirl of an eye, and floating among the clouds.  The spirals are calm and beautiful at first.  Though as certain individuals begin to become obsessed with the spirals, the horror aspect begins to take shape.  I don’t want to give away spoilers, but safe to say things don’t go well for those that see the spirals in this small seaside town.  As you read, you might even become paranoid and begin noticing spirals in your life.  This manga is such a beautiful trippy narrative to get sucked into.  And as you get sucked in and spiral downward, I hope you enjoy the ride..

Christine McConnell is a baker and artist who brings expertly realized visions of occult oddities to life.  I found out about her on Reddit a few months ago in reference to one of her beautiful pin up recreations.  I was linked to her Instagram channel and was hooked immediately by her many beautiful artworks.  As an artist, she spans many mediums: photography, costume design, sculpture, and food art creations.  What makes her work relevant to us lovers of the arcane is the twinge of darkness, sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much, that inspires her work.  

Take, for example, one of her pin-up self-portraits where she appears as a black widow spider.  The image is beautifully unsettling.  I appreciate how she turns the idea of a pin-up (an artistic rendering for male pleasure) into something dangerous and uncanny for the viewer.  A beautiful danger like the Sirens of Greek lore.

References to famous horror movies run throughout her pieces.  This includes a pin-up take on the twins from The Shining as well as odes to 50's style cheesy alien films.  Her edible sculptures also celebrate famous horror figures, such as Frankenstein and the “baby” monster from Alien.

Last, but not certainly not least, I must reference what I consider to be one of the best “Haunted Houses” I’ve seen.  For this piece, Christine decorated her parent’s lovely home into a monstrous creature for Halloween.

I recommend checking out her instagram to view all her amazing works.  Let me know in the comments below what you think and if you have any artists that you are currently obsessing over.

The morning commute to work can be a dreadful thing.  Living in the city I take the L train from the north all the way to downtown.  It takes about an hour of screeching tracks and shuffling passengers.  For me, I like to retreat into my own world by listening to podcasts.  There’s something that’s incredibly intimate and meaningful about listening to person’s voice as the narrate a story.  Below is a list of some of my favorites.

Lore

Stories explaining the history of various folklore traditions.

Best listened to with a glass of wine in hand watching the rain storm against your window.

The Black Tapes

A serialized docudrama that investigates proof of the paranormal. It’s up to you if you choose to believe the story or not.

Lovers of the X-files and Ghost Hunters will enjoy this one.

Welcome to the Nightvale

A Lovecraftian fiction story that envelops you in a mysterious desert town filled with oddities and conspiracies.

Best for those that love a little dose of crazy mixed in with their magical realism.

Down at the Crossroads

Chris Orapello is a pagan podcaster that discusses various Pagan and Witchy topics. He also interviews other prominent Pagans and features various Pagan music.

Excellent for those wanting an educational look into various Pagan traditions and thoughts.

New World Witchery

Witches Cory and Laine go over what traditional North American Witchcraft means to them and how to incorporate magic and spellwork in your daily life.

Great for beginner and experienced practitioners alike.

Mysterious Universe 

This riotous Australian duo will have you laughing in no time as they go through the latest mysterious happenings and conspiracies with a healthy dose of skepticism.

If you love hearing about UFO phenomenon, ghosts, hauntings, and cryptozoology than this is for you.