If you stop and listen, and dig your toes a bit into the still-quite-cold ground, you can feel Mother Earh beginning to get juicy, getting ready to stir, starting to dream of growth. I saw it all of a sudden when I walked into the dining room.
Picture by the author; if you copy, please link back.
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 . . . ."