This weekend, when I was driving G/Son home, we had on a CD of songs by Emerald Rose, including their version of Caledonia. G/Son was interested in the songs, asking me what each was about. When we got to Caledonia, I said, "This is a song about a man who's lonely for his home in Caledonia, which means 'Scotland.'" G/Son said, "Is it the real man who was lonely for it, or is it just a song?" I said, "Well, a lot of people have sung this song, ever since the first lonely man sang it the first time. But I think that they were all, at some point, lonely for Caledonia. Sometimes, I'm even lonely for Caledonia." G/Son said, "Nonna! Your home isn't in Caledonia; it's in Virginia!" and I said, "I know, but my heart's home may be in Caledonia, where our Pictish ancestors ran to hide from the Celts," and G/Son said, "My heart's home is in Maryland," and I said, "So, it is."
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 . . . ."