I'm looking forward to mowing the lawn, pulling weeds and getting my hands dirty. I want to pick bouquets of wildflowers and place them on my altar. I want to hear the pond frogs sing all night, every night without fail. I want to listen to the timeless, hypnotic song of crickets and other night creatures. I want to drink in the night sky without catching a chill. I want to soak up the sun with no care in the world other than sunburn.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."