New growth shoots skyward from the hedgerows and coppiced trees toward a springtime solar splendour, the culled branches and stools having survived the onslaught of winter throw the renewed energy of the land toward our benevolent star.
Reward indeed for the woodsman, the stockman, the farmer and the witch, a timely reminder of the flux and flow of the great cauldron, always moving, expanding and retreating, the current flows in all things, never ceasing, always moving, life itself a rich tapestry from the loom of the wyrd.
The sourness, so prevalent within the mundane world wears the face of happier moments as warmth and light replace the colder and darker times so feared by many, it always astounds me that nature will take a hold and influence those who may care very little for its company and knowledge, as if it still resides within our DNA which of course it very much does.
I find myself in a strange place, a letter from a friend allows me to take stock of those things that often pass us by along this crooked path, not to hold in my hand the hatchet and the billhook of the woodsman, this time requires the skillful wielding of other tools, within my hands the scales and sword of another to hold, the decisions to be made are those that can effect not just myself but others removed from my immediate company, a grim responsibility among more pleasant choices, yet thick and fast they arrive, carefully considered they must be all.
Again my voyage has furnished me with the skills to deal with most of what I may have to, prudence councils that perhaps within some other matters greater council will have to be sought, at least I now have that option, denied as it was further back in time.
As sight develops I become acutely aware of the greater sensitivity that is involved, having sought this for many a year, when it becomes clear it may not be the blessing we would perhaps assume it to be, often far from it, requiring prudent action and occasionally harsh judgement, even when you see the trap that lies in front of you there may still be a greater temptation to keep walking so as to see what it could do.
So, sight within the hands of a foolish man could be a curse and no gift at all.
I often write of my own perceptions of the members of our society that are not "of the faith", usually with a degree of scorn at the fact that many of them seem to conspire against us in our journey to gnosis, littering the roads to wisdom with the detritus of the ignorant, it is not pleasant, yet if they knew how would they perceive me.
This leads me to thoughts and discussions on weather or not witch blood is a viable truth, those discussions that will continue well after this one has departed and there are those with greater skill than I to talk and ponder such things.
Hereditary witch is a title many would claim, yet if we look far enough back into our own families we will all find it, so we all have it in some way, let us say for now (as I wish not to step on anothers toes here) that within our genetic make up there exists a switch, when this switch is turned on it activates a deeper aspect of ourselves, actually changing us in ways that others may not understand, the blood of our witch ancestors becomes active (watch this space for an announcement of a book that will deal with this subject in ways I cannot, until then enough), and we begin to see things in a very different light.
I am blessed with a love who like myself is "of the faith", she may not tread the mill but that makes her no lesser witch than any I have met, indeed far greater than most. I find it hard to imagine a life spent with one who's switch had remained dormant, we Do Not see the world as others do and this could be a frightening experience for someone.
In his letters to Joseph Wilson, Robert Cochrane mentions this with regard to Joseph's wife, he writes "To a young girl looking in from outside it must have been frightening, since to her she must have seen the man she loves subtly change and a side to his character appear that she does not understand", Robert goes on in great detail within this letter about this matter and it is an important lesson for all of us that may be family to learn, with regard to the way that others may see us and the way we might execute our own daily lives ( there is a link to the writings of Roy Bowers on the Clan of Tubal Cain website(see Links) listed at the bottom of this page).
So the testing times continue, Prudence is the virtue used to deal with much of what goes on, If I were to judge this civilisation, I would find it lacking, when it judges me (and it has of late) it will most likely burn me at the stake, not so much for religious reasons more out of a wish to not step out of ignorance and emerge into the light, still, I shall be roasting in good company and I am well prepared..
Flags, Flax and Fodder. Tony..
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