Ninth day of the year revererates grey skies with the nature of sacrifice that underlies every religion, every life choice -- echoes of Odin's tree, of Christ's cross and Tyr's hand -- of you, this day, lifting your head and setting your sights and taking a step.
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And plus, as you say, "The full moon calls her witches." I didn't sleep a wink last night...and tonight probably won't be much better.
The moon wants me to sit again with candle and string. Meeting with others seems draining right now, rather than invigorating as I would have thought. It's an inward time. I still seek my coven. I know the one I'm borrowing now is not mine, but I love each person in it. Still, I'll have to decide something.
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