The Blackbird at the Gate

The Blackbird came at the start of the year. He comes at the beginning of things, bearing the Rowan branch that lights the way. The Rowan branch, the flaming brand carried into the Land of the Ancestors, into the Other Realm, that I wear on my wrist and always have in my hand. Here was... Continue Reading →

We Do Our Best

These are the words the Dead whispered to me as I sat by their fire and offering pit on the last day of the Samhain season. "Ancestors!" my son sings, spinning in circles, "please come to us on an airplane; you are dead but we love you! Come back to us now, and I will... Continue Reading →

Up ↑