Where I live, we are right at the fractal edge of spring: winter is stuttering, and between rains come bright, fresh days in the 70s, rich with the scent of flowering trees and lush grass. There is no doubt: the Wheel has turned. Winter has run its course. It’s days…
It’s a thing many Pagans say: “We are between the worlds”. It signifies that within the contained context of ceremonial ritual, we are apart from the mundane—that we are somehow outside of the natural world, and suspended in a space wherein all is possible. Where magic can happen. It isn’t…
The light is returning, and after torrential rains, I am enjoying a day of sparkling sun here in Northern California. The hills are emerald green this winter—a dramatic shift from the sickly yellow of the drought years. What a relief. A week from this evening, I and friends will be…
Thankfully, it appears California has dodged drought conditions this winter. Heavy streams of moisture-laden tropical air have been pouring over us, delivering the life-giving blessing of water. It is indeed the season I celebrate as Riverain, historically the wettest time of year around here, and in the squishy…
If you’ve flown, you’ve heard the direction: first, fit your own mask. Then assist those next to you with theirs. It’s good advice in these times, when we are called to service and protest and activism. Compelling as it is to pour service into the oppressed, the threatened, the victimized, we…
The days are a bit longer now. The area where I live has been beset by storm after blessed storm, so-called “atmospheric rivers” pouring onshore to deluge the parched land of California. We smile beneath our rain hoods and grumble cheerfully about knotted traffic. And despite the dark, pendulous clouds, it…
