So when I step outside, I am in a time out of time. I am transported NORTH, I am with my grandmother's grandmother's grandmother. There are forces flying about quite near the Earth that can only announce their presence by booming, "BE NOT AFRAID!" And, as if to make absolutely, doubly sure that I would PAY ATTENTION, the fox ran across the nighttime snow, the most lovely, terrifying, beautiful thing in the entire world of things more beautiful than they can possibly be.
I'm sure this storm is going to make my life difficult for days and days to come, but tonight it is simply, well, it is simply something that I've lived all my life to be ready to experience.
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 . . . ."