In a Different Light

                                 A Lesson of Outdoor Sacred Space

Building altars outside brings us back to the very beginning of humanities rituals and rites, which, in their earliest forms, honored the Earth Mother and the cycles of life. Going outside, we place ourselves back in the sacred groves of our ancestors, whose eyes, attuned to a different understanding of the natural world, could see the mark of the divine everywhere. The natural world was sacred space. Bringing our spiritual life outdoors is a humbling experience, too, because it reminds us that we are just a small part of the whole of the natural world. Going outside connects us to the land we live on at a time when most of us no longer feel the ancient links to sun and growth, earth and harvest, rain and plenty. There is a perspective we gain under the broad expanse of sky and towering shadows of the trees that is hard to grasp in the noisy everyday of our lives. At the same time the small miracles of nature-a trilling of bird song, the shadow a leaf casts as it floats to the ground, the bright beauty of a flower or the delicate shades of sunrise and sunset-awaken our senses and our spirits, and are a reminder that the natural world is one among the great gifts of spirit.

Creating altars outdoors permits us to get back in touch with the cycle and beauty of natural light, that most of us, spending our nights and days in apartments and houses-no longer experience on a regular basis. Even the most familiar corner of the back yard looks different in the noonday sun as it does in the quiet of twilight or beneath the light of the moon. Different light permits us to see things anew. I live in the south where the change of seasons is not as seen or felt as when I lived in the northeast. Even my favorite time of the year has changed. What was summer is now, in the heat and humidity of southeast Louisiana...has become the spring and fall. The two seasons of mildness and gentleness also has light that is mild and gentle. Not the harsh blinding of summer, or the gray wetness of winter. Spring is an early greening time here, coming far earlier then most other places; spring light is a pale green, reflecting the green bud time. The small birch leaves that hang on all winter, a golden yellow, drop off and the light green buds appear. This happens almost over night. The Chinaberry tree does not have the chance to drop its dried dark berries before it seems to burst into the clusters of small purplish-blue and china white flowers. My large magnolia tree is the place where I take my offerings out side. There lays the large waxy brown leaves...that fell over winter...and the dried leftovers from what were the full, white fragrant blossoms.

There are ways of creating sacred space out of doors and of celebrating and honoring the sacred in nature. Many people regard their gardens as part of their sacred space, a place where they are put in touch with the energy of growth and where you can participate in the miracle of nature. Even the action of digging into the earth connects us to the ancient rhythms of nature...scent, texture, and color of soil combines to wake us up from the doldrums of winter and introspection. It brings us out from ourselves to the connection we have with the universe around us.

You say you do not have a garden... you live in an apartment; you have three flights of steps to get down to cement and asphalt...? Nature is still there...pots of soil and miniature Fairy Roses...pots of ferns and herbs...Lavender grows wonderfully in pots...tomatoes and beans will grow and produce additions to summer meals, place on a stoop, in a window seal...a roof garden...bring a small bench, or a simple, small table...an Altar is formed in the natural light and surrounded with nature. Think of what is possible; think out side of dedicated space... think of a walking prayer to the Gods in a park...the ground is your altar to nature.

The miracle of life is celebrated in planting the seed or the small baby plant and caring for it...in love giving it the proper food and water...seeing it has the right light...and watching it thrive and grow. While in the country garden wind blown weeds are lessons in humility...many of them are old friends of mine and can bring health and beauty into your life.

My own garden is at the mercy of nature...no rain...too much rain. Insects that are southern killers, like Stinging Worms.  They hang from the trees like lace and eat everything in their path...my Wisteria and the climbing Lady Banks Roses were decimated. But two months later, the wisteria is large and healthy and will be awesome in the late spring, ablaze with hanging lavender blooms. It is being formed into a room around an old metal canopy frame. Under it is a bench...and a small table, an altar to the Gods of my Coven. A special place where I can sit and think and reflect on life and my connection to it. The rose arbor, over the short sidewalk leading to my front door, is a jumble of branches of small short leaves, in the spring, until the stinging worms attack; it is glorious with small yellow clusters of roses. Under it pots of herbs...catnip, mint, rosemary, oregano...a welcome to those who visit...with a small stone that says Tranquility. I see it as an Altar to bring peace to those who pass under that rose arbor, and up my sidewalk. The catnip is for the Cat Goddess, Bast...the Guardian of the Temple, and the Egyptian goddess of Joy. (My cats leave it alone as long as I do not play with it.)

In the yard is a circular place of purple Salvia, lavender, cinnamon Basil and bee balm...a hummingbird feeder hangs from a shepherds crook...and fronting the Salvia and lavender is Pennyroyal, its pinkish purple flower heads standing tall. It has a little wizard with a book...a butterfly on his pointed cap...and a sign at his feet...The Earth Laughs.

These little gardens/Altars are my places of worship. Not just the altar I have in my indoor sanctuary...not just in my circle...but those little areas set aside for special reasons. Peace, honor, reflection, connection... I find it all out side among the plants that nature, with my help, has provided and taught me from. From the giant magnolia amongst the leaves and twigs where libations of wine and water have been poured...and crumbs of cakes, bread and things such as cheese crackers and jelly rolls have been scattered, to the small pots of herbs sacred to the ancients and my cats...all are sacred and bring me closer to my connection to creativity and the divine.

I make offerings of fertilizer and water, I set crystals into the soil as offerings and gifts to the plants for their growth, protection and power. I talk to them, thanking them for their beauty and any other gifts they may bring to my family or me. Just as I would make a thank you to the Gods at my Altar, I make a thank you to the Gods at my outdoor places of worship.

That is one way to see the special places outdoors. There are formal altar and shrines also.

Through the abuse of our planet spawned by an environmental crisis, has ironically, helped many people to focus on the reverence due nature. The idea of looking outside to find the spirit within is very old. On ancient Crete and before, the trees in the sacred grove did not represent the Goddess...it was the Goddess, indistinguishable from Her. So for the Greeks the landscape testified to the Deity's presence. Befitting a Earth Goddess Hera's sacred sites celebrated the majesty of the surface of the Earth... while Demeter's sacred landscapes evoked its interior, life-giving and death-bringing. The holy places dedicated to Artemis, goddess of the wilderness, were located in the wild places of Greece. This understanding of the varied nature of the landscape, honoring it in all its aspects, that predates the Greeks by many thousands of years, contains an important lesson in understanding of natural sacred space.

When you build an Altar outdoors begin by looking at your surroundings. What does that natural landscape say to you? What is its spirit? Areas near and around trees bring our focus up from the ground to the sky, while a site full of scrub holds you to the ground. Is the land hilly or flat, curved or linear? Look at the place you intend to build your Altar and pay attention to the wind and the sun: is there movement and light? Does the landscape make you more aware? Listen to the place: is it filled with natural sound-birdcalls, rustling, chirping-or is it still? Watch your place at different times of the day and night to heighten your awareness of the sacred space.

Lady Keir

 This is something that I wrote some time ago. It is in two parts...the first part is a young Wanna Be Witch talking about what her expectations were for Samhain. The second part is a bit about what we do without the theatrics. Keir

Those Pesky Witches!

~Little Miss Wanna-be~

"You fly on your brooms, they say, cursing and hexing those below...
This is the season for your flight they say...so up into the air we go.
What no flying, but here's my broom I say!
Come on now why did I join this troop,
if not to play?"

"A Harvest, what do you mean a Harvest ...a celebration of the Earth...oh how boring I say..." (umm this penty is not what they say it is worth) .
"I came to fly, I wanted to so bad...but you all are stuck on the ground...
what fun is it to weave and sing making magick on the sound?
"A cat at least, black and glowing in the eyes?
I see a tail and a bright green eye on a kitten with a bell.
What fun is that?
What kind of hag are you...? A kitten? Where's the Hell?
You all are steeped in Devils Juice! Where is it by the way?
A time of remembrance of loved ones past?
Well I did not sign up for that,
Hi Ho this witch is gone!"
(I wonder if I can get my money back?)

~Witch~
"OK my Sisters and Brothers of the path...
little Miss Witch is gone."

"Shall we have our cider and barley cakes now?
or after we return before the dawn?"

So we put down our brooms and circle around, braiding the strands of fate,
together we sigh, and together we sing,
And together we enter the sky!
Our robes fly out and our capes whisper, " seee, seeee the Witches are free."

Over the rooftops we go, while sitting there in the circle glow.
The fire blazes on shadowed faces of witches half asleep...
Our dreams shaped on flickering lids and the ancient mysteries so deep,
For we are the sky, the stars, the glow of the moon...the sea and the waves...
But down to earth we must return, the dawn is about to break...

Awake we stir and heave a sigh, looking smilingly around,
We laughingly say "all are here; none are lost, amongst the silvery clouds".
We start our chant to the Horned One, He who will say farewell, for in the arms of the Wise Old One he will sleep and dream til Yule.
We start to circle round and round chanting as we go,
" OH Lord of Horns and Lord of Might bring to us the second sight...
Bring to us our loved ones bright, bring to us this SAMHAIN NIGHT!"
We rest and drink our cider hot, and nibble on the cakes.
We share a bit with Mother Earth, blessing Her for
our fate.

In the fires burning low, in the embers quiet glow
I see a face who will it be... that face is becoming more like me...
A different time, a different place,
Cleopatra? No just a mom, seems that is my fate.
But hold on now... there I do walk the round...
in the circle with my chums, Witches still will circle the ground.
In the future there will be Witches flying free like thee and me.
May we all Blessed be !

A Blessed and Happy Samhain to ye all !

Keir

You're The Poisonwood Bible!

by Barbara Kingsolver

Deeply rooted in a religious background, you have since become both
isolated and schizophrenic. You were naively sure that your actions would help people,
but of course they were resistant to your message and ultimately disaster ensued. Since
you can see so many sides of the same issue, you are both wise beyond your years and
tied to worthless perspectives. If you were a type of waffle, it would be
Belgian.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Spread this...Make it Viral!

This is happening in Charleston,South Carolina...so specially all you Pagans out there in SC make your voices known. If this cop thinks that he can get by with this others will to. Discrimination is insideous do not let it take that inch, then we will not have to walk into the past. Keir

--------------------------
Rhonda Gruber... has been arrested.. on the warrant it said "practicing witch" I need every pagan you know and all paths to KNOW what's going on.

Here's what she posted to her yahoo groups pagansnightout......

My name is Rhonda Gruber AKA Wicked Lil Witch and I am a Proud Witch. I am currently being persecuted as a Witch by a Lt. Kevin Duke of the Horry County Police Dept. My life and the lives of my family and friends are being threatened and destroyed by this man with the backing of countless other officials.

I was arrested Monday Sept 10th '07 by Lt Duke for Breach of Peace, Child Endangerment/ Neglect and 1st degree Harrassement.

This all began around the end of May '07 from many false police reports from a neighboring family, The Luisettis, who also seemed to think I deserved to be arrested for my religious beliefs. They stated such in their police reports. When this began to become a pattern of filing false reports, we began seeking Police protection FROM them. We were told numerous times that we had no reason to receive their protection, just to ignore them. Yet they continued to file their reports on us. We were told the only we could do is file a Civil Suit. This wouldn't fix the problem for quite awhile if ever.The Police Dept on numerous occasions, even refused to file any reports for us.

We had at one point searched out help from Magistrates in the area. One told us that filing these reports was most definitely something the Police could do something about and that they should but he was fairly certain that they wouldn't. He went on a 10 min rant about it to us. He even took the time to gives us copies of the laws on filing false reports, which we took to this Lt Duke, who after realizing we weren't going to leave his office too easily, Then wrote us report stating that the report from the Luisettis was investigated and the allegations were unfounded and seemed to be stemming from harrassement from the neighbors.

Now Monday, my 16 yr old son was targeted for their harrassment . In the morning the Luisetti's daughter had a young man assualt him at the bus stop. We filed a report that morning. That afternoon another allegation from their daughter that he beat her up Friday on school property which led to his suspension since the school wouldn't investigate it other than her statement and her 2 friend's statements. She would have been getting on the bus at the time while he was on the other side of the building getting a ride from one of his friends. Then as we were sitting in my garage workshop working on getting the suspension investigated by the school board, waiting to see if the death threat my son received was going to take place. The threat came from the Luisetti's daughter getting a young man to "kill" my son due to the beating she received from him. He was supposed to be coming to our house after school. We were then visited by an irrational Lt. Duke as he whipped into our driveway screaming that Spencer was reported to be brandishing and pointing an assault rifle at the Luisettis. Which isn't even close to what he was doing. Duke then stated that is is tired of all this and someone is going to jail. He didn't care to hear anything we had to to say about our side. Anytime I was trying to say something I was told to shut up or be arrested. He was VERY aggressive and yelling. He seemed to trying to provoke an altercation. I freely admit I was upset and a little loud but I was trying to defend my son. I was never violent or out of control. I was just pissed and trying to make some sense out of the situation. When I was told to shut up I did which seemed to further anger Duke. I was only arrested after they put the cuffs on my son. I then told my Husband to find a f...ing attorney and quick. This was when they arrested me.

I was never read my Miranda Rights to this day but the questions they asked me were used in my arrest. Doesn't seem legal to me...

My charges of Child Endangerment were due to the fact that we have several legal weapons around a minor. I must inform you my son is an ROTC member with Marine Boot Camp training in weapons, can disassemble/ reassemble an M16 on the field. He was also on the Rifle Team last year and is Athletics Team Commander. He also knew our weapons, from target shooting and cleaning. He even pointed out to the Police Weapons Expert how to release the clip and open the bolt chamber as they couldn't. He is very safe and well versed in weapons. I must point point that is legally old enough to have a hunting license. He is also looking to join the National Guard on his 17th B-Day, Oct 3rd this yr. Upon his 18th B-Day he was planning a Military career. We are proud of him and is a really good person. We are very upset with all the things being alleged about him.

We NEED your help!!!
Blessed be.
Rhonda Gruber
AKA wickedlilwitch@ gmail.com
843-997-7558 or 843-602-0160 (happy to answer questions)

WE NEED THIS TO SPREAD LIKE WILDFIRE PLEASE HELP RALLY SUPPORT FOR RHONDA GRUBERS CASE.. THIS WILL MOST LIKELY BE A MAJOR LANDMARK CASE... INCLUDING THE ACLU MOST LIKELY

The morning had finally arrived to answer Earth Mother's call. Many mornings had begun since that first call of spring, when the new sprigs of leaves had burst through the fallen leaves of last fall. Today awakened the ancient need within us, my friend Dolcimer and I, to search for our sacred place. We knew in our hearts this day would be special.

Together, we met at the clearing in the meadow, loaded with supplies for our trek into the woods, woods that encircled our area with about 200 acres. Here, nestled in the hills and hollers of Kentucky, we were led two miles into the woods. We went across streams, around fallen logs as big as a fat man's waist, among trees of many varieties. Pine, oak and willow, maple, elder and dogwood to name a few, were plentiful.

Determined, we let ourselves be led further into the woods. The sun rose higher into the glorious day. At last, we knew we had reached our destination. Looking around we observed a spot where as we sat on the earth we found a jumble of rocks and mounds of the remains of a small pioneer settlement. Digging around we were able to find square nails, burned hearthstones aged and now like dark glass, proof of a fire that ended this small settlement.

Widening our exploration of this wonderful location we moved further toward the east. Two trees united their branches to form a perfect canopy and there right in their center we discovered a hand dug well. The sides of the well were encircled with rock and still there; not too far down, we could see water. Carefully, we removed a layer of dead leaves, lowering a rope with a small can we were able to bring up cold clear water, we did not drink this water, but we refreshed our face and hands with it.

We had found our place. My friend and I are Witches, and we celebrate the wheel of life together. Blessings be! We thanked The Lady for this that would become our Covenstead. We had been guided to this private special place; where we could be who we are. A place we could celebrate the seasons with rituals. A place we could attune ourselves with Mother and Lord, a place abounding with nature and her elements.

Our guide that day had been in the form of a bird. Together Dolcimer and I followed animal and old Indian trails, ending at the site of an old dug well. Mother's Well, as we named it, refreshed our bodies and shared her bounty with flowers and herbs we planted.

Returning many times we set up a lean-to, our first coven home. We cleared away brush and weeds as we dug into the hard, dry Kentucky soil. Oh, we worked into the summer. We left tea bags and our hair to protect the fragile plants from the deer and other hungry animals. We were cooled and cleansed by Mother's Well many times over.Together, Dolcimer and I designed and formed a working circle. We brought many cartloads of provisions for our sacred space. Among toil and sweat, we shared many a laugh over our feeble attempts to make comfort a priority, being modern witches, you see. Loads of goods tipped over on the long hikes, fallen trees blocked our way after storms, but we prevailed. Oh, how we loved that place!

It was a sunny, hot sultry summer day. Dolcimer and I had returned to Mother's Well. Our sacred place had begun to flourish. We felt the unity between the human and the world of nature; the world of deer and rabbit, frogs and spiders. But, there also the Gods and Goddesses, and the world of Witches.Within our world of witches, in our magick circle, natures music, sunlight, swaying trees, wind, fire, water and earth joined us as we lit candles. A small altar, encircling candles, music playing on a battery operated player...Enya I believe. Around we went, the sun high and shining on Midsummer's Day. Circling and dancing, giving praise to the Lady and Lord with our bodies and hearts we lost our human form and became one with the spirit. That's when I noticed that as I looked up to the sun, all the trees were swaying to us, as we moved to the music. The trees on the side that we were at bent their tops to us. It was a hot, slightly breezy day. But then, when on the other side, the trees swayed to us on that side. Was the slow and balmy breeze the full cause of this remarkable behavior?

Looking further into the sky we saw a pair of birds so high above us that we could not tell their breed, but as we watched they joined us in our dance in the sunlight. Around I went, bending and moving to the lovely song that now was from my heart. Dolcimer and I dipped and swayed; the time meant nothing, a time out of time, a place between the worlds. A place of sunlight, wind, dancing trees, and a promise of love eternal and a wonder shared between two sisters of the spirit, at Mother's Well. The trees kept time, sun and music, two women and the encircling trees, a part of the All, and a part of each other.Yes, we were loved in that place!

One day close to Mabon, Dolcimer said, "I wish we had some persimmons, they would make some great cookies for Mabon and Samhain." Well, we were gone for a couple of weeks, and when we came back, we looked around, and surprised that all looked, as we had left it. After chasing out a few spiders and creepy-crawlers from the tent, we looked at the circle, it seemed smaller, so small that we could not figure if it was the same one. After all we had worked all through the heat of the summer to clear it and plant around it. We had carefully placed 13 stones and had an entrance from the North East. We had filled the inner area in front of the stones with many small pieces of moss that had spread, joining to one another to make a soft blanket for us to walk upon. The plants looked like they had been cared for very nicely, although it had been a  very dry time, of no rain at all. But the Chamomile, and Lavender, and Patchouli and Mugwort looked great, healthy and almost ready to harvest. The circle still puzzled us, but we got busy gathering wood for the fireplace, that was outside our tent door. And thought no more about the size of the circle, until later, much later.

We walked around gathering the fallen branches. I found a nice big log, which I began dragging toward the tent. Dolci called. She had a certain sound to her voice, and it frightened me. I ran to the sound of her voice, finding her on the other side away from the tent in the Northwest. Standing looking at the ground, maybe about 20 ft. from our tent were small fruits scattered on the forest floor. There as I looked up, in wonder stood spreading its branches above us, was a huge persimmon tree. Bending over I picked up some of the fruit. Dolcimer said in a quiet voice "This was not
here". I looked at her and said, "sure it was, it did not grow in a couple of weeks". I was laughing, until I saw her face; she was not laughing, she was very serious. I knew that Dolci could tell you all the trees in the woods, all the wild and edible plants...and this tree was not far from our camp...she would have known if there had been a Persimmon tree close by We stopped what we were doing and thanked the Mother for Her bounty. Her gift to us was the knowledge hat She hears us and does provide. So, we gathered the persimmons up, and later that evening, after returning home, we took the pulp and turned them into the sweetest, most tender cookies. Mabon and Samhain were enlivened with these samples of the Lady's favor. Our guests, for those celebrations very much enjoyed them. But what was so truly strange, it is known that persimmons are bitter until after the first frost, there had not been a frost, it had been warm, and very early for persimmons. Those were the sweetest and juiciest
persimmons I had ever eaten.

Many months later in the spring, after a long and cold winter, we saw another remarkable sight at Mother's Well. As the Persimmon tree was on the right, on the left throughout the trees and surrounding us, was Wisteria. We had never seen it before, not even the sinewy trunks that clung to the trees. The sight of the purple flowers amongst the green leaves of the trees was awesome, the surprise and wonder of it never to be forgotten.

Others joined us in our little coven; some stayed with us and became sisters and brothers. But over time we formed a working circle closer to home, providing access for those whom worked with us, and those who were invited to our open circles. We had stopped being worried about the neighbors, and we openly practiced our faith. We had gatherings every esbat and Sabbat and for many special occasions. We worked outside when the Kentucky weather allowed us, or inside when it was too cold or wet. We had open circles, and all people were nvited, Christians as well as Pagans. We enlightened many with our openness. They may not have become pagan, but they understood that we believed in the sacredness of the universe and life. But, never did we take anyone else to Mother's Well. For some reason we knew that it was guarded and protected. It was a special place, given to us to keep in our hearts, and to remember always. A memory for hard times and lonely times, as practitioners of a minority religion can have. It was a place to be reminded of the magick, the love and
the bounty of gifts from the Lady and Her Lord.

I moved away, away from my sisters and brothers of the Circle, my coven, my family ... I missed them so. I went back for a visit, for Samhain, Dolci and I made the long remembered trek to Mother's Well. The loggers had been decimating the woods, rapeing and pillaging the trees. We so feared for that special place. Would man destroy a scared place again? We were filled with fear, we had put a protection around the place, but would it be enough? We saw the broken and fallen trees everywhere, like a bomb had blown them, or a giant child had thrown a temper tantrum. The earth was ripped and torn, her body exposed to being washed away into man made gullies. The further we climbed into the now barren forest, we were not even sure we could find our place. Nothing looked the same.

There to the right, in the Northeast corner stood a few straggling trees. Tears were welling from our eyes as we stood in shock at the destruction that lay before us. There where the well had been, nothing. Where our tent stood a jumble of weeds and ripped plastic, our bird feeders broken, lying upon the ground. The fireplace, a pile of rock and stone, the grate lying off by itself, a desolate and ruined place. We couldn't move any further into the surrounding area. So, with heavy hearts we turned to leave this place of death, the mounds were gone, the spirits of those that were once there gone, how they must weep for their home.

Together with one last look we felt our hearts skip a beat, there behind a log that was upon the ground was our circle. It was intact, the 13 rocks still around it, but now they touched, and the moss filled the circle. A circle that now was barely two-foot across. This was the circle that we had danced in, had an altar in, had performed rituals in, both of us, at the same time ... dancing, moving.... How did it happen here ... in this tiny little place, where I could fill by myself? The plants around were straggling and weak, not the wonderful, healthy, fragrant herbs they had been.Dolcimer and I stood there looking at the place that we had felt so blessed in, the place we had felt the entire Universe in our hearts, where we ad danced with the sunlight, and moonbeams, with the wind, and the trees. But t had closed down; it was no longer sacred, not any more than all of the Mother Earth is sacred.

Mother's Well and our Covenstead had gathered in on itself, we no longer needed it, we had gone on, with tears in our eyes, and a lovely unforgettable time in our hearts, we turned away. Knowing we would never return, the woods would grow back, the damage done erased, and the circle would forever remain, maybe for two other witches to find and again bring it to its full size and power ... once more.

We had ignored it too long. The devotions and rituals no longer performed in the old way. Our offerings of love and incense no longer made. The music no longer heard among the trees. Witches no longer danced and chanted under the sun and moon. No trees remained to shield and protect it. For two witches seeking magick had found it. In that place we had found, created, and raised power, for that place and ourselves. So many memories of that place, the things we call magick or coincidence. I don't know. The persimmons weren't there and then they were. The Wisteria did bloom in the trees. Was it left over from a pioneer woman's garden? Possibly, but how in all the years of being alone did it survive, throughout the trees with no gardener to care for it? The wisteria with its thick brown stems, beautiful, large fragrant flowers hanging down, surrounding us with its own magick. We took our coven name from that wisteria;The Witches of the Flowering Vine. The fragile purple flowers, coming from the thick, long- lived stems remind me of us; the witches, the druids, all the pagans of today. We survive to bloom and grow from the ancient roots of time.Mother's Well may be hard to find, but it is still there waiting for the Witches to chant, Druids to gather, and for pagans to do homage to the gods of old. Will you find it?

Where is your Mother's Well?

BY: Lady Keir Gazelle