soul enchanted

I've been running into the woods a lot, lately. Seems like every day, I'm finding myself with a rather intense need to lose myself in a forest.  And so.             Breathing.

From the front gate, to forest. Breathe.

As life (and the Universe) is wont to do, we've circled around into Spring the last couple of weeks.  The snow has changed to its soggy, noisy, dramatic self... the earth below is warming (permanently), and I am, of course, Outside . Sometime in May I shall, of necessity, be moving my work- (and main altar-) space outside.  Though I've considered it often over this winter, I hadn't really started thinking about it too much, until a couple of days ago when I was..... well.... summoned , by Spring. There is a tiny little pond in the backyard that's I've always claimed as mine (for meditation, and reflection), so naturally I'll be moving there, with a few embellishments. Since these things take time, contemplation, and lots of wiggling things about, my feet have been bare to the earth, and my hands and fingers have dirt in all the cracks and creases. Outdoor furniture is being moved back and forth... different things tried here and there.... lots of look...

I love my space.  And I mean I really, really love it.           Each morning, the first thing I do is come to it, and turn on a light.  Usually I begin with the lamp on my Abundance/Prosperity altar. Even that small thing seems to set me on the right path for the day.   Morning Meditation oils I use a desk for my work area, and have a shelf above it for the altar., with bookshelves on either side.  I don't use cloths, ordinarily-- only for card readings, and when I need a work cloth for clays or mixing oils. I don't have expensive statues (and don't know if that will ever be a thing for me), but I have my Goddess that I made (and love), and she re-minds me quite beautifully. My chalice is a silver one I picked up years and years ago at an antique store.  No fancy engravings, but it's just right, and I love it. My pentacle I made fifteen years ago, from a plain wooden disc from th...