pagan
Deer Rut video now up!
Here it is, the video for this year’s deer rut! I didn’t have as much time as I normally do to get out onto the heath for filming, what with the book release of Smugglers and Secrets, Book 4 of the Witches of the New Forest series at the end of October. But I did manage to film some old favourites, including Aelfric, Boromir, Faramir, Theoden, Merry and Pippin!
November Skies
I hope that you all had a lovely Hallowe’en, Samhain, Winter Finding/Winter Nights, etc. Even though it has warmed up here in Suffolk, England these last few days, it still feels like winter is nearly here. There is a scent in the air, something indescribable that forebodes the season of long, cold nights. The light in the sky has turned wintry, the scudding clouds across the moon look moody, and the wild winds are here—yes, the Wild Hunt has certainly begun!
This weekend was the book launch for Book 4, Smugglers and Secrets from my fiction series, Witches of the New Forest. It’s been a crazy weekend, but I am overwhelmed by the amount of support for this series. The book sales were phenomenal, and Smugglers and Secrets reached number 11 in the top 100 paranormal ghost romance books on Amazon! It is still in the top 100 bestsellers in all three of its categories, and I am just so chuffed about it all. As well, production for the audiobook of Hedge Witch, Book 1 in the series, has begun!
Some friends and I had a lovely ritual in the back garden on Friday, followed by a meal indoors. I had found some writings on an old Suffolk ritual called Horkey, or Horkney, and so tried to recreate some of that for us. It was fun! My neighbour even played her accordion for us during a part of the ritual where we sat and thought about our ancestors after laying down offerings for them. It was a very special moment, with the rising moon shining in the sky, the wind blowing and the darkness descending. It’s a memory that I will cherish for many years to come.
The deer rut continues, though it feels like it is winding down now. I shall endeavor to get some more photographs before the end, and share them with you here. Below you will find the few that I have managed to get in between the work of getting this book out, and the planning for the ritual we shared.
I love the month of November. The dark, windy days just seem to set the mood for this time of year. I don’t mind the encroaching night, nor the loss of the warmth. Instead, I love going out for walks, feeling the reflective and melancholy nature of this time, when everything is winding down, the skies are often grey and the feeling of the year’s work rest wearily in my bones. I’ve done all that I can do, and now it is time to simply be, to rest, to let everything go as the wild winds howl, the leaves come down, the rain lashes and the cold nights settle in.
I often feel a pull towards celebrating and working in the pre-Christian traditions of my Germanic and Scandinavian ancestors at this time of year. It’s a soul-deep yearning for connections to the gods, the wights, the ancestors. Though I work with the goddess Freya all year round and Skadhi during the cold season, this winter I might explore working with other deities, perhaps ones I haven’t tried to connect to before such as Freyr, Ullr or Odin. I enjoy the simplicity of a blót, the connection of a sumbel, the forthrightness of the core values that are held dear and the feeling of rootedness that it brings to me, as if I am walking with my ancestors from an age long gone, but which is returning to the modern world.
From here on the Suffolk coast of England, I wish you all Waes Hael!
Samhain Blessings, Blessed Winternights, and Happy Hallowe’en!
Wishing you the very best this season. Blessings of the ancestors be with you as we walk into winter.
The Spooky Season and the Weirdos (and the Exhaustion of it All)
It’s at this time of the year when we Witches, Druids, Heathens and Pagans come to attention of many, especially in the media circles. Some are genuinely interested in our way of life, our beliefs and how we interact with the world. Most, however, just see us as a bunch of kooks to be brought out into the light of the jack-o-lanterns of Hallowe’en.
I have wondered lately how long this perception of us as crazy, misguided, weird or strange will last. How is it that believing in deities that are associated with nature is considered bonkers, but a dead guy claiming to be the son of God being resurrected is totally sane? Other religions (because for me, Witchcraft is a religion as well as a Craft) are, for the most part, not treated in a similar manner. Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism—most of “isms” apart from Paganism—are treated with more respect. The constant mockery of our own past and attempts to reconnect to it just doesn’t make any sense whatsoever to me.
Do some of us like to dress up in robes and carry out ritual observances? Sure, but so does the Catholic Bishop, the Buddhist monk and the Taoist priest. Is it because we Pagans are not considered ordained clergy in the same regard (even if some of us have gone through legal ordination where we live?) and are just “play-acting” at being something we are not? That doesn’t make sense given our huge cultural influence of Protestantism, where one does not have to be a priest in order to connect with deity (or ancestors, spirits of place, whatever one chooses to have a relationship with). One can deny it all they want, but threads of Protestantism are rife within Western culture, from the work ethic to the ideas of self-sufficiency, both in the mundane and in the spiritual sense.
I am so tired of being considered an “outsider” simply because I want to research and recreate a spiritual tradition based on my pre-Christian ancestors and cultural roots. In the grand scheme of things, Christianity is so young, and we as a society have barely even begun to be Christianised, let alone stop being Pagan. We anthropomorphize non-human beings and objects, we have folklore and superstitions that are embedded in every culture, and we have such a real, visceral need to connect to nature that nowadays, when we cannot, we are medically diagnosed as suffering from “nature deficit disorder”.
When will the time come when at a party or gathering if someone asks you about your personal life and you tell them that you are Witch, or a Druid, or a Heathen, you don’t get a strange look, a raised eyebrow, or an instant dismissal of some kind? That people won’t question your intelligence or your sanity because you choose to follow a spirituality that is earth-based, or that incorporates ancestral veneration, or that you have relationships with more than one deity? That won’t scoff when you say that you practice the magickal arts, even as they go to church and take part in the Eucharist where the wine becomes the blood of Christ through consubstantiation? When will all aspects of Paganism become “normal”?
Then again, do we want to be normal? Is there even such a thing? I certainly don’t think so. But it would be nice to not have to explain that we are not worshipping the Devil (unless you are, in which case, it should make for an interesting conversation to say the least, if the person you are talking to doesn’t go running and screaming for the hills), that we don’t dance naked around a fire (unless that’s your thing, but it’s usually too bloody cold or buggy here in the UK for that), or that you can turn people into toads (if only). That the jokes about all these things would be considered politically incorrect, and that we would no longer have to put up with this nonsense. That we wouldn’t be considered freaks, weirdos or nuts. That we just want to practice what our ancestors have done, and try to recreate some of the old ways as much as we possibly can so that we don’t forget our heritage. That we find new ways to practice and adapt the old ways in order to fit into a modern life.
There are some benefits to being an outsider. You can look at things more objectively, when you are not right in the thick of something that is considered culturally normal, even superior. That you are transgressive, in some way, which kind of makes you a little dangerous (and who doesn’t like that feeling every once in a while?). But it is also a constant battle of wills, to try and be seen and heard for what you are without the ridicule, mockery, disbelief and sometimes outright hatred. We think we have moved on from the witch hunts, but just how much have we progressed? And how far do we have to go?
The layers of Christianity and patriarchy that underly all of Western society certainly doesn’t help. But we are in 2025, for the goddess’ sake. In my lifetime alone, we have seen amazing advances in technology, society and psychology. But there is still so much more that needs to be done. And I often wonder if I will ever see a significant change in my lifetime. Will I ever be able to meet someone new, and not feel awkward about telling them about my spiritual life, if they should ask? Will it ever just be easy?
Maybe it’s just not supposed to be easy, at least not yet. There are still many mountains to climb, both literally and figuratively. Maybe we still need to the be the ones who wake others up to a world that lies beyond their own.
But dammit, some days it’s just friggin’ exhausting.
Happy Hallowe’en, Witches!
The Season of the Witch
The winds have changed, and the season of autumn leaves, cold nights and dew-filled, frosty mornings is upon us. Finally! After the heat of this summer, I am more than ready to don my jumpers and jeans, get on my hiking boots and head out onto the heath and in the forest without worrying about whether I’ve got enough water, sunscreen, overheating, etc. It’s time to explore!
Not that I’ve got much time myself, sigh. With Smugglers and Secrets, Book 4 of my Witches of the New Forest fiction series coming out at the end of this month, it’s all hands-on deck to get everything ready for the launch date of October 31st. In hindsight, I probably should have picked a date a few days before, but with the ghostly theme of the book, and in my own excitement about sharing Ryder’s story, I chose Samhain, Hallowe’en. So now I’ve got a book launch, and a big festival to celebrate all in one day.
I shall be in bed for the rest of that weekend. Don’t call me.
After a short week in North Wales, I returned home to find that the deer rut had begun. It is always an exciting time here on the heath and in the forest. Hearing the calls of the bucks in the growing twilight and in the full dark always gets my blood pumping. Any spare moments I can get (which will be few this month) I will be out there with my camera, as always. I already got my special boy, Aelfric, who walked right up and asked to have his photos taken. So, I did!
I’m so sad to have had to pull out of Witchfest International this year, due to medical appointments, and especially now that I’ve heard it’s the LAST EVER Witchfest International. I’ve noticed over the last five or six year the numbers of people attending have been declining rapidly, which is such a shame. But nothing lasts forever and so I urge you, if you are able, to check out this wonderful gathering with talks, workshops, stalls, and music in the evening. They even have a lovely new venue for this one, which means that the safety and security of all from any protestors will be ensured. The previous venue’s location meant that protesters to any and all Pagans could picket almost right outside the door. Well, not for this venue! So go, be your best Pagan self, and join the community in a celebration of a wonderful thing.
It’s the season of the Witch, after all!
September Full Moon and Eclipse Magick
September and October are my favourite months of the year. Nature is winding down, the slant of afternoon sunlight is more golden, and the smell of fallen leaves drifts through the air. This September has started with rain, finally, here in the East of England. We still need much more rain, even though storms have come and gone almost every day this week. Our rivers, streams, and reservoirs are still low, and we hope that this autumn and winter they will be replenished, as last year they hadn’t been filled over the colder months as they should have been. The heat and dry weather over the last six months have taken their toll on the trees, grasses, and wildlife in the area.
And so, I welcome the rain, and the coming autumn months. I seek respite from the harsh sun, from the heat and humidity. I long for the cool breezes, for jumpers and jeans, for cold nights and the scent of woodsmoke from the cottages around me.
The full moon on Sunday, 7 September reflects this feeling. Here in Britain, the full moon will rise in a full eclipse, something which will be spectacular to see, if the skies are clear on the horizon. I hope to watch it rise from the North Sea, blood red and powerful during this harvest time. For me, this eclipsed moon and its deep red colour connects me to my ancestors and the hard work that they endured during harvest season. It is also a magickal moon, which connects me to the wise women and cunningmen of my ancestors, whose gifts have been passed down from generation to generation.
It is a moon also of manifestation: with the aid of the ancestors, allow the power of this lunar eclipse to manifest for you what it is that you have worked so hard for all year long, with the extra energy of not only the full moon’s magick, but the eclipse, blood-red energy of the ancestors who have got your back.
Attune to your power, and know that long lines of ancestors stand behind you. Those magickal people who have passed down their gifts in your bloodline will want you to succeed, to thrive. Use that energy during this moon, and be blessed.
P.S. Don’t forget, pre-order are now available on Amazon for Smugglers and Secrets, Book 4 of my fiction series, Witches of the New Forest 🙂
Lammas/Lughnasadh Update!
It’s the 1st August: Lammas, Lughnasadh. The first harvest festival, it comes as a welcome respite for me. I’ve been away in Canada visiting family, and the 35 to 38C temperatures were horrendous. To come back to the UK and step outside Heathrow airport to feel the cool, rainy air on my skin was pure bliss, despite the jet fumes and cigarette smoke that floated on it.
Now home in Suffolk, I can look out over my garden and see that the grass that had burned in the hot summer sunshine is now coming back to green. We’ve had rain since I’ve been away, and the drought has abated. But still the crops were being taken in even as I drove to the airport, the fields of wheat being cut on the 6th July, for they had grown to their stunted height and already dried out in the blazing sun. Now the scent of onions is in the air, as the first root vegetable crops are being taken in. Everything is a month ahead of schedule because of the lack of rain this winter, spring, and early summer.
What this harvest will bring for local farmers I can’t really say, but I’m pretty certain the yield will be much less than usual, or rather, we are reaching a new normal. If climate change continues, what is grown in this region of East Anglia will most likely need to change. The plants in my garden survived, thanks to vigorous watering, even as the water butts ran out at the end of May. We have saved as much water as we could, whenever we could, to give back to the parched land. My neighbour and I have been taking turns watering the deer, as on one side of the heath where there is a large herd they are fenced in and the little ones aren’t able to jump over to reach water. To see the ground on the heath cracked and dry already in May was heartbreaking.
But we carry on, because there is nothing else we can do. The sunshine has kept our batteries for the home topped up nicely over the summer via our solar panels, and all our electricity as well as water heating has been taken care of with ease. We’ve sold a bunch of electricity back to the grid, and made a decent profit. At one point we were even paid to take energy from the grid to top up our batteries, as for a few days with the wind there was a surplus of energy in the grid, and in the wee hours of the morning we were being paid to take electricity from the energy providers, as they do not have enough storage. What a strange world we are living in!
The harvest continues in the land around me, and I ponder my own harvest, both materialistically and spiritually. It’s been a wonderful year for me with the release of my new fiction series, Witches of the New Forest. The books have been a great success, and at the moment are providing me with an actual living wage; the first time my writing has ever done so! The dream of a 13-year old girl in her bedroom, pounding away at a manual typewriter in the hope of becoming a fantasy fiction author have been realised.
Spiritually, things have been incredibly busy, and so I’ve had to adapt my routines, daily prayers, and offerings. There was a bit of disconnection this summer, as everything in my life seemed to ramp up, but now things have settled and I am finding a new home in my own practice, dedicated to the goddess, Freya, and working with the spirits of this land where I live.
As such, today I will take some time out to do some baking: to offer it back to the land, the gods, the spirits. Even as the thunderclouds roll in from the north, I will honour the gifts of sunshine and rain, of earth and sky, of nourishment and sustenance. For this is what Lammas is all about: giving back. For many Pagans, they might feel a bit adrift during this festival, not entirely sure what it’s all about, especially if one is living in an urban environment. The wheat and barley harvest seems so very far away, as do other harvests. But the food that we eat still reaches our tables (hopefully) and to this cycle of growing, reaping, and transformation we pay homage at this time of year with a celebration of the first harvests. It was important to our ancestors, and even if we are not ourselves out in the fields cutting down the golden stalks under the sun, we can still honour where it is that we came from, and what had great meaning to those who have gone before.
Being thankful for what we have received is a large part of all the harvest festivals. Early this morning, before sunrise, I gave thanks to Freya in her aspect of Gefn, The Giver, for all the bounty that I have received. In the giving of thanks, we come to truly know and feel gratitude, and in feeling gratitude, we understand the nature of blessings, and of being blessed. We no longer take so many things for granted and instead, see the gifts that lie all around us, if we only open our eyes to see them.
In deep relationship, we weave our way through our lives, becoming part of the tapestry of life that flows in and out of time, one thread upon the other, bringing beauty, inspiration, and love.
May your Lammas and harvest be plentiful, and may you know the joy and blessings of gratitude. As a beautiful friend just messaged me on WhatsApp, As the grain turns golden in the fields, may the moments of your life turn into golden memories.
Visiting Mont Tremblant
I did manage to visit an old friend, Mont Trembant National Park, while I was back in Quebec, Canada, where we had a three-day respite from the heat throughout the month of July. Some of these photos are taken on the trails just outside the park, and some within.
It does my heart good to return to this sacred land, and the mountain that was once known as Manitonga Soutana, the mountain of the spirits, which designates the highest summit in the region and an important place of passage where ceremonies were held. According to legend, the Algonquians (Anishinabe) believed that the Spirit made the mountain tremble when people disturbed nature. It might also refer to the water coursing down the slopes of the mountain which caused this impression of trembling for the people lying on the ground. The name Mont Tremblant reflects this legend.
A six-hour hike took us to the top of Nez d’Indian (Indian’s nose – this mountain desperately needs to be renamed or given its original Indigenous toponym. There is also Chutes Diables (Devil’s Falls, again, let’s rename this, please!)
To see more short videos from my stay in Quebec, head on over to my YouTube channel HERE!
As I mentioned previously, my fiction series, Witches of the New Forest, is doing really well, and I had just finished writing the manuscript for Book 4 before heading out to Quebec. We are now in full editing mode, and we are on schedule for a 31st October release date! This will be Ryder’s story, whose adventures will certainly match those of her sister in the first three books!
In other news, I’ve had to cancel my appearance at this year’s Witchfest, as upon my return to the UK I received the dates for some surgery that I need (it’s not anything bad, just something that needs to be done before things deteriorate further). I will be in and out of appointments until the end of December, and so I’ve had to wipe my calendar of most things for the rest of this year. I hope that the new venue for Witchfest is a success, and I can’t wait to attend next year!
That’s it for the moment! I wish you all a blessed Lammas/Lughnasadh!
The Power of the Summer Solstice
The Aesthetics of Our Traditions
It had been a busy couple of weeks. I finally finished the manuscript for the third book in my new fiction series, Witches of the New Forest. I also had another book published with Llewellyn Worldwide released on Saturday, which quickly hit the top of the charts in its category. I was absolutely thrilled, but I also needed some downtime.
I went to my special reading/relaxation room (our spare room is a devoted, sacred space) and rearranged my altar. I do so every few weeks, to match both my mood and my needs, and what I see reflected around me in nature. After I had settled down, I meditated for a while just to reset myself and find my centre. And then I opened my eyes.
I was instantly struck by the beauty and wonder of my spiritual path, of my religion. There on my altar, the candles flickering, the statues of my deities gathered round, the plants, stones, and tools of my Craft were laid out before me. The aesthetics of its hit me like a ton of bricks. And it was then that I realized the huge importance of aesthetics in both Witchcraft and Druidry, and how it shouldn’t be dismissed so easily.
Because too often we can dismiss these things as superficiality. “It’s all just surface, and the real stuff, the real work is what matters most.” But right then and there, I got it.
I got it.
It was what drew me to Witchcraft and Druidry in the first place. The tools, the beauty of the natural world, the images of deity, the rocks, stones, and crystals collected on my journeys, the sight of a plant sprouting new leaves, the flicker of a candle flame, the scent of the oil burner, the music gently playing in the background: I understood the importance of these things on a visceral level.
Because we need beauty in our lives. We need joy, and wonder, and creativity. We need that which makes our hearts sing, in order to continue this journey through life.
Many of us in the Western world are still under the influence of Protestant Christianity. Buddhists have their temples and incense, Roman Catholics have their mass and cathedrals, First Nations peoples have their art and their ceremonies. But the austerity found in many sects of Protestantism has been passed down through generation upon generation here in Britian and also throughout North America. The churches are stripped down to bare essentials, the incense is gone, the choirs are absent. The beauty of the rituals is harder to see with the naked eye, and stripping away all of that, I believe, has led us towards a reunification and a deep longing to reconnect with beauty and aesthetics. Much as I adore the beauty and simplicity of the functional Shaker style, my heart still years for more. More ceremony, more ritual, more pageantry.
We can get just as much out of these things as we can in one to one communication with our deities, the spirits, the land, or whatever it is that we work with and have deep relationship. While my own tradition still favours simplicity in all things, I can still appreciate the robed rituals, the poetic words chanted under the full moon, the drift of the incense smoke on the wind. These are the things that first caught my eye when I was seeking a religious and spiritual path that resonated with my soul. These are the things that still draw me back, time and again.
We are visual creatures; we cannot deny that. We see in colour. We need to indulge in that sense sometimes, to make our hearts sing once again. We need to feel the rich textures, to taste the indulgent flavours, to hear the sweet music, to smell the scents that fill us with passion.
There is nothing wrong with enjoying a ritual simply because it was visually stunning. What our eyes see, also goes to our hearts. Those memories will carry us through hard times. They will bring us back when we’ve lost our way. They will connect us to like-minded people. The aesthetics of our Craft and our tradition are not just surface value: they are essential.
Does that mean that every ritual has to be filled with these things? Of course not. We do what we can, when we can, and however we can. But in our hearts, we carry the feeling of those beautiful rituals into every other ritual that we do, that sense of wonderment and enchantment when we were truly moved in a previous experience. Although not every ritual will have that same result, we still have that within us, and can still seek it out, in both ritual and in our lives.
It’s not shallow to love the aesthetics of our tradition. It’s a part of our heritage, and instead, we should celebrate it, in all its various forms.
Down the Forest Path 