And so, i went out tonight, to walk widdershins in the waning moon around my new circle of stones. And, there she was. There was the first firefly of summer, dancing with such lovely laziness around my circle of stones.
Years ago, when I first moved into this magical cottage, I was, pax cancer meds, v depressed. But one night, all unexpected, I came out onto the porch in the deep night and looked out into the woodland surrounding me and, there, there She was, there was the Goddess, blinking and dancing and making love to me in a thousand points of light. It was not the beginning of joy, but it was the end of despair.
And so, each year, although I watch through snow for the fox, and through March for the crocus and hellebore, and through April for the daffodils, and through May for the sage and woad and jack-in-the-pulpit, and through June for the roses and lilies and gardenia, although I watch just up to Litha for all of them, I do begin in June to watch for the fireflies. And, tonight, there She was. She was gentle, blinking light, dancing in between daylilies and crepe myrtle, in between beech and mint.
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 . . . ."