Solitary Journey

by Keitha

My knapsack firmly in place, I wander in the darkness. The third quarter moon lights my way, glittering through the high, flowing leaves. I know the way; I've been here before. The clearing is just up ahead: the soft grass under my feet, surrounded by tall willow trees that weep around the standing oaks. The night is calm, as if admiring the beauty of this urban forest.

I set up quietly. I'm not afraid of anyone wandering by; I've long since discovered that no-one ever comes here at night. But the calm night is affecting me, and I feel peaceful. Although there is no wind, I can smell warm wet rain coming. It soothes me in a way I cannot understand. I set up an altar on an old tree stump and cast my circle. Vines spring from the ground, twining around one another; spinning themselves to completeness. It's not darker inside this circle, but brighter; as if the moon were amplified by the vines, and the leaves sparkling with a light of their own.

I call to the East: Air Spirit Come! Hawk of the East Wind Come! Bring your Eyes and your Mind and your Freedom! Guard this circle against all who wish ill! I feel the familiar rush as Hawk Spirit glides effortlessly towards me. I can feel the breeze of his wings on my face as my candle flickers. Horse Spirit comes from the South, his hooves flashing fire and sparks on the stones around my circle. He rears up and tosses his mane with proud wild abandon. Swan Spirit comes next, arching her head gracefully, and gliding in the waters of Life. Wolf Spirit, always the last to come, lopes up with intensity in his eyes. He paces, watchful.

I stand in the center of my little circle, arms and legs outstretched, calling the Goddess. Calling the one-eyed Hag Goddess. Calling The Calleach. The intensity of her entrance always has a way of startling me. So much strength, it used to make me step backwards. But I think she does it on purpose because she likes to make an entrance. I don't care what people may say about her; that old woman has a sense of humour. Cernunnos comes with much more subtlety. He's not there, he's not there, and all of a sudden you realize he's been there all along. After all, the people with the sword called Answerer must have had a wicked sense of humour.

I bring out the breadcrumbs and present them as an offering to Cernunnos; for the creatures of his forest. I bring out the water and fertilizer and present them as an offering to The Calleach; for the trees of her forest. She nods quietly and smiles, He sniffs at the bread to make sure it's healthy. I sing a song of joy, and I dance under the moonlight. My body reacts like a tuning fork to the vibrations of the life around me. If I cannot move, I will die, I think; the urge to dance overpowers me. My body moves gracefully in the night, and I shape the energy around me into a flowing sash of light. I have no spells tonight, no petitions. I came here only to be with the Life here, to feel it flowing through my veins and across my skin.

I chat with God and Goddess alike. They counsel me, and tell me I am beautiful and beloved. They tell me to be brave in the face of the world; they tell me to take pride in my life. We laugh together in the candlelight, and He strokes my arm in a soothing way that always calms me.

But it comes to an end eventually, and I must get some rest. I thank them for coming, and we smile and wave to one another as they are leaving. The Spirits go next, and I thank them gratefully for coming. The circle dissolves into the ground, and I am alone. I water some of the nearby trees, and leave the breadcrumbs for the birds; or more likely the squirrels.

Wandering home, knapsack firmly in place, I watch the moon go down, and I know that I'm not alone.