Change Is Coming…

Mother Nature’s Magick, Just When We Need It

Every season, from the age of six, I’ve seen magick occur… six weeks before a new season is born, Mother Nature offers a scent of promise in the air, a reminder of the imminent change of things. The lesson that life is an ever-evolving and shifting matter exquisitely realised through embracing the cycle of her seasons.

I love this day of magick, four times a year.

The scent of eagerly bursting shoots on the coldest of January mornings brings that wave of hope that warmth and light will soon be gifted to us. April presents the tease of balmy evenings and exquisitely elongated days, relaxed hours spent under the warmth of the sun. There’s the day near-end of July where I can smell the leaves begin to fall and remember the heaven that awaits me as nights draw in and we hunt for the best chestnuts and kick mounds of vibrant leaves in the forest. Burnt orange September brings the clear scent of afternoons encased in darkness, with dancing fires and enlivening, cold air as the imposing black sky snuggles us close together.

But this year, she sent high-magick …on 25th November 2020, for the first time in my fifty-two years, Mother Nature skipped a season. Make no mistake, she knows the trauma this year has wreaked upon us and she presented us with Spring. Not once but three times since, I have not only smelt Spring but I have seen the hues of her light on the trees and felt the eager buds gathering strength in her earth.

She is trying to help us keep the faith, to remember that this too will pass. I will wager my Ogham staves that she will deliver Spring to us early, she’s kind like that. She’s magick. She’s high-magick.