the old ways of the world

Since I am sending out my new eletter later today, just a short post for here. It is Samhain Eve in my part of the world, and as I watched the sky this morning blush with the hot touch of the sun, I felt a thinness to the air and an old, ungentle magic to the quiet. I felt I was not alone in watching sky and sun rouse each other to the new wintry dawn, and in knowing - whether sparrow-wise or through faery eyes - that we approach a sacred hour.

 Frances MacNair

This is traditionally a liminal time and, regardless of how we humans celebrate it, there is still a sense that the natural (and supernatural) world is doing its own special thing. Whenever I become aggravated by the diminishment of the holy day, by the theft of tradition and the commercialisation of sacred ideas - whenever culture gets me down - I turn to the sky that sings in colour and light over the ocean, and I listen to the silence of the stirring trees, and that is where I find the truth of Samhain.

In the moment between inhalation and the long hymnal exhalation, there is a space where wild wonder flows. 


  1. thank you for holding this quiet space Sarah

  2. What I love about the internet is getting a global perspective - as you prepare for Samhain, I prepare for Beltane...
    As a student in Oxford, I adored May morning - nobody marries the pagan and the Christian better than the Brits - we'd gather to hear Magdalen's choir sing in the dawn, then wander among Morris men dancing in the street :)
    May each of us remember the other at this liminal time. Wishing you light and love, Sarah xx

  3. beautifully said. thank you, always, sarah, for your kindred words. i hope you passed a blessed samhain.