A Walk through a Year in the English Countryside
I am walking across the field toward the lane, the morning lit with the kiss of bright autumnal sunshine. Blue skies above and the busy chatter of birdsong to accompany me and my heart sings. Leaves tumble before me as they are whipped into a frenzy by the wind, twisting and twirling they weave their acrobatic dance and I am caught in their swirling vortex. I pull my coat tightly around me and hang on to my scarf as I push my way into the shelter of the woods beyond.
The trees continue their whispering above me as they bend and sway. Leaves cascade to the ground like confetti and crackle beneath my feet. I stop to admire the richness of the autumnal palette and the warmth in the hues of golden browns and orange, dotted with the ruby jewels of crab apples. My mind and body bathe in the delicious, sumptuous comfort of this autumnal offering, like slipping into a warm vat of honeyed treacle. To read the rest of this story click here.
"The Witch's Eight Paths of Power"
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