For me, the change of seasons riles up all kinds of internal energy about the beauty of Fall, the rewards and satisfaction of the harvest. Freezing, canning, drying and tincturing good medicines. Also, there is fear. Will I survive the winter? Will I have enough? • After the initial rush to get my act together, I look forward to the slower pace that Winter brings.
A going inward time. Restoring and hunkering down to take care of what was depleted. As the old saying goes: "A rested field brings a bountiful harvest." • I visit a favorite tree every fall. It is a grand old Oak that lives in a cemetery. As I approach this grand old one, I feel a sense of letting go, like collapsing into the arms of a mother.
As for winter...Let it come!
"When winter comes to a woman's soul, she withdraws into her inner self, her deepest spaces. She refuses all connection, refutes all arguments that she should engage in the world. She may say she is resting, but she is more than resting: She is creating a new universe within herself, examining and breaking old patterns, destroying what should not be revived, feeding in secret what needs to thrive. Winter women are those who bring into the next cycle what should be saved. They are the deep conservators of knowledge and power. Not for nothing did ancient peoples honour the grandmother. In her calm deliberateness, she winters over our truth, she freezes out false-heartedness. Look into her eyes, this winter woman. In their gray spaciousness you can see the future. Look out of your own winter eyes. You too can see the future." — Patricia Monaghan | Seasons of the Witch