The scent of woodsmoke hangs in the damp air,
Mingles with the scent of decay, of wet earth and dying things.
Day is slower to break but all the more glorious for the wait,
Mornings cloaked in swirling mists,
The blackbirds song ethereal, melancholic,
And jewel dew drops adorn my ebony hair
Like stars arrayed in the darkest depths of the night sky.
Leaves fall to the ground, all reds, oranges and yellows,
As though the sun has splintered.
They catch on the air and dance their final dance,
Pooling in corners to crunch beneath feet
Or to be thrown in the air with squeals of delight.
Night falls sooner,
Darkness descends
And lays over the quieting land.
~Emma Kathryn, Season Songs
On Friday I was honoured to lead the ritual for Oss Choir’s Samhain Ritual concert in Hackney, and I wasn’t disappointed! It was a beautifully ethereal evening with some amazing performances. Saturday morning saw me heading back to the sticks of Nottinghamshire, to prepare for my own Samhain ritual. Now though, it’s almost as though Samhain is a distant memory…one of my friends even has her Christmas tree up already.
But yet, Samhain has not yet passed.
When I wrote Season Songs, it mirrored my belief that the sabbats are not just stand alone days or events, but instead those energies ebb and flow. Samhain is the doorway into the darker half of the year. But like all events, it’s more complicated than a simple calendar date. Don’t get me wrong, those calendar dates are important. They can provide an anchor, if you will, a focus for us in our busy lives, to remember and act. I’m a big believer in a witchcraft practice with the emphasis on the practical, so if a calendar date helps us to mark an occasion in any way, then that’s a grand old thing, right.
But as I said, Samhain is not over. As well as the calendar date of which we are all familiar, there is also an astrological date and that just so happens to fall on 7th of November this year. Samhain is the midway point between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. It is the doorway through which we enter into the dark half of the year. And so with this in mind then, there is plenty of time to still honour those who came before, for your Samhain rituals, or whatever you feel you missed during the calendar celebrations.
To honour the dark half of the year, let me share with you a guided journey. It is particularly helpful to do before ritual or spell work that involves the spirits as it can help you get into the right frame of mind.
To begin then, get into a comfortable position, making sure you are warm enough. As with the other meditations and journeys in this book, you may wish to read through it a few times or record yourself reading it aloud and play it back to yourself. When you are ready, you may start.
Close your eyes.
Just let yourself breathe naturally. Allow your body to relax, to get comfortable
and settle down. Notice any itches, tics or twitches. Let any thoughts come and go,
letting them drift on by. Notice how relaxed you feel.
Take a deep breath and hold it for as long as is comfortable before exhaling
through your mouth. Again, in through the nose and out through the mouth.
One more time…
You are standing in the street where you live. It’s twilight already and the last of
the light is fading quickly. The shadows gather and pool. The street is quiet.
You begin walking, any direction, it doesn’t matter.
As you walk, notice how cold the evening air is. The bite of winter can be felt in the late autumn wind as it blows leaves from trees and carries them along the pavement and gutter in a frenzied swirling death dance. Lose yourself in your surroundings. Notice how the life around you reacts to the changing seasons, to the dark half of the year.
Already the blackbird sings his evening song, a final melancholic call and in the
undergrowth you can hear a hedgehog snuffle through the fallen leaves and detritus,
searching for the final feast before the long slumber of the winter months.
As twilight slips into night, you pass houses with windows that shine soft golden
light. As you walk by, you glimpse snapshots of strangers’ lives. From the outside
looking in, you feel like that invisible other, a part of the wild hunt’s horde and can
feel the veil between yourself and this other world you have been given a glimpse of.
Soon the streets give way to the softness of earth, to grass and the crunch of
fallen leaves beneath your feet and you find yourself on the edge of a small woods.
You are unafraid as you step beneath the boughs.The scent of decay and rot, not unpleasant but instead rich, almost sweet with
a hint of leaf spice, permeates the air. The ground is soft beneath your feet so that it
feels like you are standing on a thick carpet that cushions each step.
Death surrounds you here.
You can feel it, touch it, smell it.
As you walk through the woodland, you can feel the spirits all around you. You
thought you’d feel alone here in this space but you don’t. Instead it feels like a
homecoming; Feels like this place and these spirits have been waiting for you your
whole life and yet they are familiar, leaving you with a sense of deja vu.
As you walk, listen to what they have to say.
***
After a while, you don’t know how long, you come to a clearing. In the centre is
a large antlered skull. It’s full night now and the pale moonlight makes the skull glow,
imbuing it with not quite life, but an energy that radiates outwards. You approach and
sit on the ground before it.
Is it whispering to you or is it the wind?
The sound rises and swells and as it does, leaves swirl all around you, tiny
whirlwinds that move in time with this haunting melody. You close your eyes, feel
your heart beating in your chest, but there’s something else too.
Feel the ancestors around you, inside of you. Their blood flows through your
veins. You always carry them within you. Just as the forest is alive with death, so too
are we. Feel those who came before around you, within you.
Their voices add to the humming of the wind .
Listen to the messages they have for you. Listen to the spirits of the land, of
nature, of ancestors, for now is the time of the thinning veil, mirrored by the season,
by the sabbat.
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