The Hallowed Nook

22/09/2025

🌰 Conker Lore for the Equinox

Conkers, the glossy horse chestnuts falling now beneath English trees, carry more than just childhood games. In old folklore they were gathered as charms of protection: slipped into pockets to ward off rheumatism, or placed on windowsills and in corners to guard the home from ill luck and wandering spirits.

As the nights begin to lengthen, the trees offer us these small, shining tokens, seasonal talismans of strength and balance for the darker half of the year.

Blessed Autumn Equinox. 🍂🌒

21/09/2025

The day before the Equinox always carries its own quiet enchantment. This morning unfolded with an unusual ease... the sort of stillness that feels like a gift. Doors and windows were opened wide, the air shifted, and the house seemed to breathe again.

I swept the fallen leaves into a pile and gathered conkers from the bottom of the garden for the altar, small tokens of the season’s shedding. The garden hummed with change, the cats followed me in their watchful way, and the atmosphere grew lighter with every task.

Now, with the dark moon above and the evening stretching quietly before me, I feel the house and my spirit both ready. Tomorrow, balance arrives; tonight, I rest in the calm before the turn.

10/09/2025

🌑✨ The Echo of 9/9/9 ✨🌑

Yesterday, the 9/9/9 threshold opened. A day of completions, endings, and release.
I thought I had missed it.

But magick has its own timing ⏳️

Instead of ritual flame or circle, my hands reached for thread.
Knot by knot, breath by breath, I wove a Wytches’ Ladder.

Each knot became a seal.
Each twist, a letting go.
Each binding closed a cycle quietly asking to be finished.

Nine, the number of endings was already there, folded into the work without me forcing it.
The portal found me, and I answered with thread.

🪢 May your endings be sealed with grace.
🕯️ May your beginnings be carried on woven breath.

🖤 The Hallowed Nook 🖤

📜 Whispered Lore ~
Wytches’ Ladders are old charms of knot-work and intention. Each knot is a vessel, sometimes for a spell, sometimes for a prayer, sometimes for a release.
They are ladders of breath and will, carrying the unseen into form.

09/09/2025

This week the Moon passes near Saturn & Neptune.
Old Sky Watchers called Saturn ~ 'The Slow Keeper of Time' ⏳️ Neptune ~ The Hidden Dreamer 🪞
When the Moon leans close, I do wonder what messages they trade above us. ✨️🍂

07/09/2025

🩸 🌑 The Blood Moon Rises 🌑🩸

Tonight, the Moon wears her shroud of Iron-Red.
A pattern of endings, a war-drum in the Sky.
We rattle, We rise, we bind what was broken.
The scales turn in silence and the night remembers.

An omen once feared in English fields as the herald of war and bloodshed. Chroniclers wrote of kings falling, villagers clanged pots to banish the dragon devouring the light, and wise women bound ill luck at the crossroads.

Now, we meet her not in fear, but in power.
This is the hour of endings and reckonings, of vows spoken in shadow and justice whispered to the marrow.

02/09/2025

Absolutely ☺️🦇🎃

01/09/2025

🍂✨ The September Threshold

A stile, a hedge, a hush of bramble.
Beyond: the fields of September,
lit with a fading sun and quiet promise.

Step through gently.
The season waits.

The Hallowed Nook welcomes you into the turning.

22/08/2025

The Black Moon holds it's breath, and in her silence the Stars remember us. 💀🌑🦇

01/08/2025

🌑 Lughnasadh: The Barren Feast 🌑
From the crooked Altar of The Hallowed Nook

They call it the First Harvest.
But what if the field is empty?

What if the seeds you planted never sprouted?
What if all you’ve reaped is silence, rot, or smoke?

Lughnasadh is not just a celebration of bounty. It is a reckoning, a turning, a sickle to the neck of illusion.
A whispered truth that not all efforts yield fruit.

Here in the Nook, we mark Lughnasadh not with forced gratitude,
but with honest grief for what didn’t take root.
We make offerings of failed plans, dead hopes, and broken pacts, for these also, are worthy of burial rites.

This is the Season of the Sacrifice.
Not just the golden grain, but the part of you that must die
so the rest may stumble, claw, or limp into the next cycle.

Tonight, I do not light candles for success.
I light them for all the versions of me that didn’t make it.
I honour the ghost crops. The cracked soil. The aching hands.

And still…
I raise my cup.
I chew the crust.
I whisper thanks to the ones who walk with me in the dark.

Lughnasadh isn’t soft.
It’s the rusted blade.
The crow’s eye.
The moment you realise that survival is the harvest.

21/06/2025

🌞 The Longest Day 🌞

Today the sun lingers, a guest reluctant to leave.
And in the hush of high noon, a cat watches from a sunbeam—
eyes heavy-lidded, dreaming of older summers.

At The Hallowed Nook, we mark this turning with quiet reverence.
A pause. A presence. A promise that even the brightest days bend toward shadow.

Light a candle. Leave milk & honey on the sill.
The old ways remember.

🌿 Blessed Summer Solstice, from all at The Hallowed Nook 🌞☀️🌡🔥⛱️

10/06/2025

Jo Tubby 🤣🤣

127.2K likes, 1399 comments. “too late”

21/05/2025

Mid May already...Time is whizzing by 🖤⏳️🕯