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The Burrow, North Boambee Valley (2025)

24/07/2025

Merry meet, my loves from deep within The Burrow where the little hearth flames are still bravely glowing against the cold dark hush of midwinter’s bones and the winds rattle the old trees like bones in a witch’s bag of runes. I’ve been up long before dawn, stirring herbal tea and stirring thoughts as the world turns her golden face toward a most fiery mystery. For tomorrow morning, Friday 25th July at 5:11am, the New Moon blooms in the fixed fire sign of Leo, the Lion, sovereign of heart, fire and expression. But this is no ordinary lion’s purr. This New Moon is draped in dark velvet and shadowed in glittering omens, woven tightly with threads of fate and bone and longing and the unseen hands of spirit that work in deep silence.

Now let us peer into the shimmer and whisper of the stars. This New Moon stands opposite Pluto, lord of the underworld, in a tight and intense opposition. In the realm of fortunes, this is a most uncomfortable stretch between what we want to radiate outward in glory and what we are being asked to surrender and die to within. The positive side of this harsh alignment is the sheer power of transformation it holds. You may find that your own inner lion breaks open its ribcage and bares something true and raw and golden, if only you are brave enough to witness it without flinching. But beware the shadowy side, dear one. This aspect can stir control, power struggles, ego wounding and a deep desire to dominate or retreat into manipulation. Take care with what you declare, and know that sometimes the brightest fire casts the darkest shadow.

But not all is battle and bruising. For the Moon dances in harmonious trines with both Saturn and Neptune, those two ancient elders who, when combined, whisper of visions made real. The trine to Saturn brings quiet discipline and the ability to craft a sacred vessel to hold the dreams that Neptune is breathing into your sleeping mind. Positively, this is the aspect of the spellworker, the artist, the storyteller who brings imagination into form. There is a dreamy seriousness here, a call to not only wish upon a star but to take up quill or needle or broom and do the quiet work of making it so. But the negative can be a slipping into illusions that feel too structured to be questioned, or a loss of momentum when daydreams remain only mist and never breath. Walk that edge like the old witches did, barefoot and watchful.

Pluto also forms sextile aspects to both Saturn and Neptune, threading the alchemical fire of the deep unconscious into the architecture of both time and dream. This is a most potent time for transformation through spiritual devotion, for restructuring not just your life but your very soul. This can feel like the gentle push of fate’s hand, encouraging the slow uncoiling of what has been trapped in the bones for generations. At its best, this is ancestral healing, quiet redemption, phoenix medicine. At its worst, it can surface unnameable fear or heaviness that makes you want to flee. Do not flee, my love. Sit. Stir the fire. Listen.

And in the centre of it all, Saturn and Neptune are still conjunct in Pisces, the sea dreamer’s kingdom, where time and spirit blur. This rare and lingering union calls us to embody our mystical beliefs, not just dream them. It reminds us that time is not linear and healing is not a checklist. At its best, it weaves spiritual discipline into your bones. At its worst, it can make you feel lost at sea, unsure what is real or illusion. Let your breath be your anchor and your rituals be your compass.

This Leo New Moon is also curled between two stars in the Constellation Cancer. The soft, protective stars of Tegmine and Piautos. Tegmine is a shell star, a symbol of deep protection and sacred secrecy. Piautos, lesser known, is associated with fine sensitivity, veils between worlds and mystical guardianship. Their presence with the Moon suggests that though Leo burns with fire and outwardness, there is something very hidden here too, something curled in the underbelly of the heart. A need to shine yes, but only when the sanctuary is protected. It may be time to shine light not on the stage, but within your own inner sanctum. Tend your hearth. Honour your lineage. Guard your dreams like eggs not yet ready to hatch.

So what then is the fortune of this lion hearted New Moon as a whole? She is a blazing ember of rebirth, a mirror of fire held up to your own face asking ‘Who are you now?’ The positive potential is magnificent. A fearless reconnection with your own true calling, a reclaiming of voice and confidence, a radiant dance into your next becoming. The shadow is not to be ignored though. Pride, ego, fear of change, and battles of will may surface like spirits uninvited. This Moon asks for courage, but not the kind that shouts. The courage to feel deeply, to change without drama, to trust without proof. To build altars to your future self from the bones of your former skin.

And as if that were not enough, Mercury is now retrograde from 17th July until 10th August, spinning his trickster dance through the mists and making all communication a little slippery, a little strange. You may feel forgetful, irritable, or find that messages go missing, technology glitches, or your words are taken the wrong way. But even deeper than that, this retrograde feels thick and nostalgic, as though time is folding in on itself. Dreams from the past, long buried voices, unfinished stories. They all rise now for reckoning. You may feel slow, sad, sentimental, confused, or oddly quiet. That is not wrong. That is the echo of memory circling back to be healed. Let it.

Here is a little gentle spell to soothe your spirit during this Mercury in Retrograde. Brew a tea of lavender, chamomile, and mugwort beneath the New Moon. Light a soft blue candle, and place beside it a piece of clear quartz and a sprig of rosemary for clarity. Call upon the Celtic Goddess Arianrhod. She of the Silver Wheel, who rules over time, fate, and the stars. Whisper her name as you sip your tea and say:
'Lady of Spiral and Moonlit Thread
Guide my words and clear my head
Turn the wheel but make it kind
Bring peace and calm into my mind
By star and root and ocean song
Let my path be smooth and strong'
Let the candle burn down in safety and place the quartz beneath your pillow for dream guidance. This is not a time to force clarity but to allow it to rise like mist over still water.

And so, my darlings, may this lion hearted Moon awaken you without overwhelming you. May you speak truths with gentle flame and honour the dark parts of your light. May Arianrhod hold your time in her hands and your name in her stars. Stay close to your hearth. Feed the fire. Listen for the old stories in the wind.

With deep love and lion's warmth from my little fireside to yours
Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

11/07/2025

From my hearth to yours my magickal darlings, on this still and frozen morning, greetings from the depths of Winter. This Burrow Witch is wrapped in shawls by the soft light of my little kitchen fire, with steam curling from my tea and candle smoke dancing in the quiet corners. This morning, long before the sun rose, I crept from my warm quilt and watched the Full Quiet Moon in the silvery black sky from my bedroom window. She hung low and heavy in the freezing air above the frostbitten earth, round as a pearl and brighter than any lantern, illuminating the sleeping hills around Coffs Harbour with her cold pale light. Her zenith is at 6:36 this morning, Friday 11th July. She is called the Quiet Moon by my Celtic ancestors, for she marks the stillest point in the Wheel of the Year, when everything is resting deep beneath the soil, and even the trees hold their breath. This is the Moon of silence and stillness, of underground dreaming, of inner roots and long thoughts, of the hidden slow magick that shapes what is to come. It is not a time for movement but for becoming.

This Full Moon has risen in the most solid and ancient of Earth signs, Capricorn, the quiet crone of the zodiac who carries her wisdom in bones and stone and silence. She is the keeper of time and memory, of mountain paths and frost hardened resolve. This Moon in Capricorn shines upon what is built to last, and what cannot endure the weight of Winter will crack and splinter and fall away. But under her light, we see what truly supports us, what is sturdy and sacred, and what has the strength to bear our becoming. She asks us to commit to our deepest responsibilities, and she blesses those who are willing to toil in the cold and trust in the return of Spring. Yet there is danger in her chill, for if we have grown too rigid, too hard, too cold in our hearts, this Moon may magnify that frost and leave us brittle. If we have become too serious, or too unbending, she may show us that we must soften and remember joy, even in the quiet of Winter’s hush.

Let’s listen to the whisperings of the planetary dance in the skies this Full Moon night, for the stars have woven a particular tapestry with Saturn in the weaving.

Saturn conjunct Neptune is an enchantment forged of paradox, like a spell bound in both bone and mist. It brings the merging of dreams and discipline, imagination and reality. In its light side, it can help us turn our most soulful visions into enduring form, to build cathedrals of spirit from the fog of longing. It’s a potent time for witches and artists and dreamers who are willing to give form to the formless, who are not afraid to do the hard work of the soul. But the shadow of this conjunction is illusion masquerading as duty, or the dread weight of vague fear. We may feel lost in grey fog, uncertain what is real, burdened by responsibilities that may not even be ours. Beware the temptation to sacrifice too much or bind yourself in oaths born of guilt instead of vision. Ask yourself if your path is still your own.

Saturn sextile Uranus is the lightning in the stone, the sudden awakening in a life that has felt heavy or slow. It offers us breakthroughs that are grounded and real, changes that actually last, not fleeting disruptions. It brings the chance to find new freedom within old frameworks, or to rebel in a way that is steady and meaningful. This is the magick of slowly dismantling old patterns, of liberating ourselves without destroying all we have built. But its warning lies in restlessness that becomes stubbornness, or change that becomes chaos. If we force freedom too quickly, we may unravel more than intended. The wise witch waits for the right moment and casts her spell when the currents are ready.

Saturn sextile Pluto is the deep cauldron of transformation lit with the flame of commitment. It speaks of power earned through patience, and the slow turning of the soul through shadowed places. When these two ancient lords align, we are gifted the strength to face what lies beneath, to rebuild our inner sanctum stone by stone, stronger than before. It is a time to dig into the roots of ourselves, to ask what must be composted, and to endure the alchemy. But its dark echo is control disguised as strength, manipulation cloaked as necessity. We must not grasp too tightly. We must let go of the old bones if we wish to rise anew. Be mindful of power, within yourself and others, and choose always to use it with honour.

And so, under the heavy and luminous gaze of the Quiet Moon, we are asked to reckon with stillness and weight, with the patience of Winter and the slow labour of inner renewal. The magick of this Full Moon is not loud or dazzling, but buried in the hush. It is the kind of spell that takes root in the soul and grows unseen for weeks or moons. It is the whisper that tells you to stop striving and simply listen to the Earth's sleeping breath. It is the reminder that you do not have to bloom right now, you only have to rest and prepare. In its light, the truth of our bones may be revealed. We see what matters. We see what endures. But we may also see what we have ignored, what we have pretended is not heavy, or hard, or breaking. And once seen, it must be honoured.

Enchantment: A small spell beneath this Full Quiet Moon to honour the silence and plant the seeds of future strength. Gather: One black stone for grounding and endurance, a pinch of dried mugwort for inner vision, a piece of bark from a tree for ancient wisdom, a drop of oil from patchouli or vetiver to root your spirit, and a piece of parchment on which you have written the truth of what you most desire to slowly become. Place them in a small bowl of earth and hold them in your lap as you sit in stillness. Speak softly to the Moon, not to ask but to witness. Bury your parchment and your spell bundle in the garden or a pot, and leave it there until the Spring.

May your hearth be warm and your bones rested, and may the quiet hold you gently.

With love from the deep Midwinter hush,
Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

25/06/2025

My dearest hearts and kindred spirits. From my cosy little cottage in Coffs Harbour nestled where the mountains kiss the sea and the mists curl like sleeping cats around the eaves I write to you now as the New Moon cloaks herself in cardinal water and draws her veils around the world. It is Wednesday the 25th June and at exactly 8.31 this evening the Moon is gone from our sight sliding like a pearl into the dreaming womb of Cancer the sign of hearth and home of ancestors and old soul tides. Within the hearth beside my kitchen fire where herbs hang drying and the scent of rose and ash mingle I feel the world hold its breath. The Fae are so close now their whispers brushing through the keyholes and chimney their laughter curling in the steam of the kettle. This is a time for magick spun behind closed doors for ritual and renewal for calling your spirit back into your bones and letting the outside world fall silent for just a little while.

This Cancer New Moon is one of vast stirrings and ancestral echoes and it sings with both balm and storm. There is deep beauty in this moon and also deep reckoning. The Moon is conjunct Jupiter the golden giant who stretches all he touches. This can bless you with hope and bounty and expansive dreams, dreams of love and belonging and the life you truly desire but it can also unearth emotional excess where grief or longing or yearning become overwhelming tides. It is a spell that must be cast carefully for it will grow whatever you plant with a thousand roots.

The Moon also sextiles Mars who burns brightly now and urges us to act not from rage but from heartfire. It brings courage to face family wounds to step bravely toward the life you long for and to protect the sanctuary you are building. But the heat of Mars must be tempered with the waters of Cancer or it may scald instead of soothe. Let this energy light the hearth but not burn down the house.

Mars sextile Jupiter is another blessing of ambition and strength. There is an enchanted trail opening here for those who dare to follow it a path of vision and movement and brave choice. This is the spell of purpose and it may come in the form of sudden clarity or fierce determination. But beware the temptation to believe yourself invincible. Faeries delight in hubris and will trip the proud with ivy vines. Stay humble and true.
The Moon forms a quincunx to Pluto the dark lord of the underworld and this aspect stirs unease the feeling of something pressing from beneath. You may feel old wounds rising or a sense that something must shift but you cannot quite name it. This is the whisper of shadow of transformation not yet revealed. The fae speak in riddles now and what they show you may first seem strange or even frightening. Trust their signs.

Mars also quincunxes Pluto and this is where the storm brews strongest. It is a dangerous spell if used recklessly, a boiling of intensity that may lead to harsh words or actions taken from a place of pain. But when worked with reverence this energy becomes pure raw power. It is the energy to destroy what must fall and to rebuild with your bare enchanted hands.

Jupiter quincunx Pluto shakes the spiritual bones of the soul. Beliefs may falter. Sacred truths may begin to crumble and reform. What you thought was the path may reveal itself as only the threshold. There is magick in this undoing and also sorrow. It is a shedding like the skin of a serpent. Honour it. Grieve if you must. But know that the new skin will fit more truly.

And now the great woven spell in the stars is the Yod, the Finger of Fate. A celestial triangle formed of the New Moon and Jupiter sextiling Mars and all of them pointing to Pluto as the apex. This is an omen rare and fated. A choice will arise now that may change the shape of your life. You may not see the consequences yet but the choice will burn with knowing in your belly. This is a path only you can walk. One that leads into the unknown where the fae guide by starlight and intuition alone. Something karmic stirs and calls. Listen.

Pluto himself sits now with Fixed Star Altair, a star of the eagle of ancient warriors and soaring spirits. This star speaks of boldness, of daring to rise above fear and see with far vision. But Altair is not without its shadows for too much ambition, too much solitary striving can separate us from what we love. Remember to fly only with the wind and not against it.

And above it all the constellation Gemini still glimmers. The Twins remind us that there are always two stories, always two truths, always the dream and the doubt. The fae love this mirror world where one thing becomes another where your reflection dances when you stand still. Let yourself see both sides now. The tenderness and the terror. The loss and the love.

And so the overall spell of this New Moon is one of sacred turning. It is a time of emotional birth of great potential of seed and soil and shadow. This moon may call you into tenderness or shake you awake into transformation. Its blessings are healing, family, love, new beginnings, deepened intuition and the return of your true self. But its trials are fear, resistance, ego, battles, emotional overwhelm and the grief of releasing what can no longer stay. This moon wants you to grow but it will not let you do so without first breaking the pot and remoulding the clay.

Enchantment: Take a handful of rose petals(I am using dried after the annual pruning) for gentleness, lemon balm for peace and clarity, poppy seeds for dreaming and mugwort for deep sight. Stir in a spoon of honey and a drop of rainwater or dew gathered at dawn. Place all into a tiny pouch or bowl and whisper into it the wish that your soul most longs for. Breathe upon it thrice. Say: “Under moon unseen and stars aglow
By fae and flame and winds that blow
By water deep and earth below
I plant the seed and let it grow”
Place this charm beside your bed or upon your altar and watch what awakens.

With dark sweetness and old magick’
Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

21/06/2025

My dear magickal friends. The longest night is falling across the Southern lands. The air is quiet with that hush which only deep midwinter can weave, the hush of snow in ancient forests in the mountains, of breath hanging like silver smoke above the hearth, of shadows drawing long and old across the floorboards. It is Saturday 21st June, and here at The Burrow, the sun bows its head in reverence to the dark, and we enter the sacred hour of the Winter Solstice, when time stands still and the veil beneath the soil softens like frost to firelight.

This is a time I honour most deeply. The moment when the Earth turns inward, when the roots whisper louder than the leaves, when we, if we are wise, follow the call to rest, to dream, to burrow into blankets and memory. This is not the bright blaze of Beltaine nor the golden exuberance of Midsummer, but the bone deep magick of stories murmured by candlelight and stew bubbling low while the wind howls outside. It is time to honour the hush, the hollow, the haunted beauty of the midyear night.

And in my own path through the spiral of seasons, this sacred moment belongs to a goddess as ancient and crooked as the woods themselves. Baba Yaga. Crone and Witch, Guardian of the Bone Forest, rider of the pestle and keeper of the dancing hut. I came to know her deeply while journeying through Eastern Europe, where her name is spoken with a mix of awe and fear. She is not the pretty face of domesticated folklore, no. She is the wild grandmother of the threshold, the iron toothed seer who tests the soul and burns away what is false. Baba Yaga belongs to the deep forest of winter, where firewood must be chopped with intention, and stories keep the cold at bay.

To honour Baba Yaga is to honour the truth within ourselves, however shadowed or gnarled. It is to sit by our inner hearth and ask the hard questions. Have we wandered too far from our own path? Are we ready to be stripped back to the bone, to be boiled down like broth, and built anew? This is the time of reckoning. And she, the crone of snow and skulls, waits in her hut on chicken legs, watching with her gleaming eye to see who will come bravely to her door.

Here, in The Burrow, I light a single candle in her name and place beside it a little wooden spoon, a bone, and a coin. To symbolise sustenance, death, and payment for wisdom. For she demands offerings, yes, but more than that, she demands authenticity. Do not come to her with sweet platitudes. Come with truth. Come with your rags and your hopes, your broken bits, your wildness, your longing to grow strong through the frost.

Outside, the Wild Hunt rides. I can feel it in the wind that rushes through the trees and rattles my old gate. The Wild Hunt always rides at Midwinter. Old Gods with flaming eyes, fae of ash and ember, spirits wrapped in shadowed cloaks galloping across the stormwinds. If you listen closely tonight, you might hear them. Do not whistle. Do not call to them unless you mean it. And know, dear heart, that the dark fae are thick upon the land now. Luring, watching, sometimes giving and sometimes taking. Leave them cream and honey on the windowsill, and weave Rosemary and Mulberry above the door to keep your threshold protected.

Midwinter is for stories and spells, for curled up cats and old books, for making things with your hands. Sewing, mending, drawing, cooking. These things are not small. They are ancient rituals of hearth magick, the ways our grandmothers called the light back one stitch at a time. It is no mistake that our ancestors huddled close together now, not only for warmth but for comfort. For connection. For enchantment. Let us do the same. Let us tell the old tales and light the flames that call the sun’s return.

Enchantment: And now, a spell, whispered through the long night’s hush in Baba Yaga’s name, to honour the Solstice and gather her wild, protective, searing wisdom into your life:
The Crone’s Solstice Bone Broth Spell
Gather: A dried bay leaf, a small chicken bone or clean twig, one whole garlic clove, a pinch of dried nettle, a black candle, a spoonful of salt, a tiny lock of your own hair or fingernail clipping (to seal your truth)
In the quiet of Solstice night or within a week, light your black candle and sit with the dark. Into a pot of simmering water (or into a bowl if you are not cooking), drop the bay, the bone, the garlic, the nettle, and the salt. Stir sunwise three times and say:
“Old Mother of the frostbitten path,
Crone of bones and fierce old wrath,
Boil down the false, protect the true,
Burn away what I must outgrow through.
With nettle sting and salt so sharp,
Strip me bare and fire my heart.
In Baba Yaga’s name I stir,
And call her wisdom now to occur.”
Add your hair or clipping into the water or bury it in the earth beside the doorstep if working without heat. Let the water simmer or steep until the candle has burned low, then pour the water into the soil beneath a bare winter tree, or into a cauldron or black bowl to cool and be discarded with thanks.

This is not a spell for sweetness. This is a spell for the brave. For the ones ready to emerge changed. For those who understand that the dark is not the end, but the place where seeds sleep before they sprout again.

And so I send you love tonight, wrapped in shadows and lit with candlelight. May your hearth be warm, your spirit fierce, and your path lit by the bones of your becoming. The dark has its own beauty. It does not apologise. It teaches. It sharpens. It deepens. And from it, the light is born anew.

Blessed Midwinter, my darlings. The sun shall rise again. But tonight, we are with the Witch in the woods. And she is watching.

With frostbitten love and ancient magick,
Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

11/06/2025

My darling magickal friends. Tonight, Wednesday 11th June at 5:43pm the Full Moon swells silver and bone white in the sky, floating high above the wintry treetops of the Southern Hemisphere, casting long shadows across the cold, whispering earth. This is the Cold Moon, as our ancient Celtic foremothers called her. The moon of long dark nights, breath fogged windows, and dreams that stretch deep into the underworld of the soul. She sings in the mutable fire sign of Sagittarius, the wild huntress of the zodiac, bow drawn toward a horizon not yet seen. She comes cloaked in the magick of movement, pilgrimage, prophecy, and the eternal longing for something more ,yet her light glints like frost on a blade, revealing truths we may not yet be ready to face.

There are no great celestial heralds by her side tonight. No major planetary aspects crossing her path directly, nor grand fixed stars entwined with her glow. She stands alone, pure and piercing, her wisdom sharp as the point of Sagittarius' arrow. But her stillness is only part of the story, for the energy she draws up from the earth and sky will ripple outward through the days to come, where larger forces begin to stir in the dark velvet sky.

On the 15th of June, we will feel the grinding bones of the cosmos as Jupiter squares Saturn, a clash of giants echoing through the ley lines of time. This square brings lessons old and urgent. Jupiter, ever the great magnifier, yearns for expansion, abundance, and freedom; he is the leaping flame and the open road. But Saturn is the keeper of time, the one who sets the hourglass upon the altar, who reminds us of duty, endurance, and the sacred weight of limits. Their tension may bring frustration. Growth stifled, ambitions dampened, and freedom curbed by fear or by fate. And yet, in the hands of a wise witch, this pressure becomes alchemy. It teaches us where to strengthen our foundations, where to rein in the untamed so that it may burn steadily rather than consume all. The challenge is to walk forward with both purpose and patience, to hold fire in one hand and stone in the other.

Then, on the 18th of June, Jupiter will form a square with Neptune, the sea dreaming planet of illusions, mysticism, and transcendence. This is a dance both mesmerising and dangerous, like wading into a moonlit tide with your eyes closed. The positive glow of this square can inspire spiritual awakenings, visionary insights, poetic outpourings, and a surrender to divine inspiration. But there is a shadow too. Deception, false prophets, grand schemes built on shifting sand. Beware spiritual bypassing, and promises that shimmer but do not hold weight. For those who listen with the heart and keep their feet grounded in the dark damp earth, the combination may lift the veil between worlds, but for those who chase only glamour, there is a risk of being lost in fog.

As the Cold Moon casts her gaze over the southern skies, she also brushes past the faint shimmer of Eta Scorpii, a small star in the flicking, venomous tail of the Scorpion. Though not a major player in the celestial dance, this star hums with a quiet and potent energy. In its brighter aspects, Eta Scorpii lends focus, tenacity, and the ability to strike with precision when the moment is right. It is the spell completed with a single perfect word, the decision made with the whole soul behind it. But its darker potential lies in the sting. Resentment, vengeance, overreaction to perceived betrayal, and the tendency to dwell in the venom of old pain. Under its influence, we are asked to move carefully, to wield our words and our power with integrity and foresight, lest we wound where we meant to heal.

And so, what fortune does this Cold Moon weave for us? This is a moon of endings and reckonings, of revelations that arrive not with thunder, but with a quiet, cold clarity. Positively, it offers the gift of vision. Long range foresight, wild hope, spiritual direction. It whispers to us of journeys yet to be taken, of truths finally seen, of the fire within us that burns even in the heart of winter. But beware restlessness, delusion, and the tendency to leap before looking. There is a caution here: do not shoot your arrow simply because your hand itches for action. This moon invites divination, study, ancestral guidance, and sacred stillness before movement. Listen. The wild huntress does not gallop blindly. She watches, breathes, and waits for the wind to shift.

And for those who feel the call of ritual, here is a spell to perform beneath her silver gaze:

Enchantment:
Spell of the Winter Arrow

Gather: a small arrow or arrowhead (or carve one from a twig), a sprig of dried sage or rosemary, a candle of deep purple or indigo, a pinch of salt, a dish of water from a running stream or ocean, a piece of parchment and ink (paper and pen)

On a night within 72 hours of the Full Cold Moon, place the arrow on your altar. Light the candle and speak:

"O huntress moon of fire and frost,
Guide me true, no matter the cost.
Where I have wandered, show me the way,
Where I have faltered, teach me to stay."

Burn the sage or rosemary slowly, letting the smoke curl around the arrow. Dip your finger in the salt, then in the water, and draw a crescent moon upon your forehead. Write upon the parchment one thing you are ready to release, and one thing you wish to seek. Pass it through the candle's flame and let it burn safely in a cauldron or bowl. Then whisper:

"Arrow of winter, cold and bright,
Fly with purpose through the night.
Let falsehood fall and vision rise,
As frost winds clear my clouded eyes."

Let the candle burn down safely. Keep the arrow as a charm for focus and forward vision. If dreams come in the night, write them down. They may hold prophecy.

The Cold Moon will rise again next year, but this one belongs to now. May you meet her not with fear, but with your spirit bared to the wind and your will honed sharp as obsidian. Walk well, dear ones, and let your magic burn steady through the longest nights.

With wind whispers and firelight,
Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

The Burrow

24/07/2025

11/07/2025

25/06/2025

21/06/2025

11/06/2025

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