Equinox Musings ~ Connections, Layers & Land
Autumn is upon us now. Even when the sun’s strength is still so that it carries a heat that warms where it falls, the air is cold. It snatches at the lingering warmth so its effect is lessened. It doesn’t yet have a bite. That will come later on, over the next few weeks.
Yep, autumn is here for sure and no matter how bright the sun shines, we can no longer hold on to the last wisps of summer, can no longer fool ourselves the seemingly fleeting summer is hanging on into the mouth of the abyss, the dark half of the year. Indeed, some of us relinquished it a while back, hearts and souls aching for the sweet slowing down that is autumn.
And as the cycles of nature begin that inevitable unwinding, it tugs at the corner of our nostalgia and perhaps we return to that stage of reflection where we can linger over our experiences, all of those events and happenings that have touched our lives.
Quite often, I reflect on my own journey at these times, as perhaps you yourself do. Quite often those reflections are not ordered in any logical way but are instead layered so that meaning and perception are altered by those shades that came before and after, and sometimes not even that. Instead, it might be better to say that meaning and perception are changed through the lens of our experiences and through the reconciliation of those experiences into the storehouse that is us. Would it be cliché to bring to mind swirling universes, ever expanding with experience, cloaked in skin and meat and bone?
As I write this, it’s bank holiday Monday in the UK for the Queen's funeral. Those who know me will know I’m no royalist and will quite happily share my thoughts on the subject, but that’s a story for another day. If you’re for or against the monarchy, you’ll find plenty of coverage to suit your tastes elsewhere. I only mention dear old Lizzie’s funeral because freedom from work of course meant I ended up in the woods.
And the woods were empty of people too. Tell a lie, I did see an elderly couple walking their dog, and that was it, nobody else. Our paths crossed but once. We did the customary greeting, common among strangers with dogs, and that was it. It hasn’t been like that since pre covid times, and if any positives can be drawn from the pandemic, one of them has to be the fact that people rekindled their love of the local landscapes. They found that connection to land, at least in some small but significant way. Of course, this is a double-edged sword for me as the upshot of this rekindled romance is that early mornings in the woods quite often mean people nowadays!
That connection was rediscovered through necessity, at first anyway. No longer able to fly to exotic locations with palm trees and tropical seas for the obligatory package holiday once or twice a year for annual leave, people were forced to explore those local and perhaps often overlooked places. The ordinary isn’t glamorous, isn’t special or unique. That is, until you see it afresh, with new eyes, through the lens of your experiences, and let’s face it, the pandemic was and continues to be an experience for us all! For some, that discovery was the beauty that thrums throughout the whole of the natural world, the realisation that the land where they live is special.
Fast-forward to today, with Covid still ever present, the cost of living crisis, the energy crisis, and civil unease in the form of strikes (up the workers, in case there was ever any doubt, solidarity with the strikers) and I can see the same parallels between class struggles and the loss of connection to the land, particularly for the working class. In fact, class struggles and nature have something of a shared history.
It was no accident, the working classes being removed and separated from the land. The history of the commons is testament to that. Those of us who are working class and enjoy regular rambles in places such as the Peak District in Derbyshire would do well to keep in mind the mass trespass of Kinder Scout by ramblers in April 1932. This organised trespass by factory workers from surrounding mill towns and cities came as a direct result between clashes with landowners and those who wished to enjoy the beauty of the area. Speaking at his trial, organiser, Benny Rothman said, "We ramblers, after a hard week’s work, in smoky towns and cities, go out rambling for relaxation and fresh air. And we find the finest rambling country is closed to us… our request, or demand, for access to all peaks and uncultivated moorland is nothing unreasonable."
Much like these largely unremembered heroes, I too try to escape the pressures of the working week by losing myself in nature. Or more accurately, finding myself there.
And this brings me to yet another intersection, that of witchcraft and the land. See what I mean about the layering of experiences and understanding?
For me, the sheer essence of witchcraft is nature, the natural world including the spirits that reside within the very land itself. Yes, there are all those other things one might consider aspects of witchcraft, rooted in practice and theory, including malefica and healing and what not, but our connection to the land is the spiritual side of the craft.
And so, I find myself here, in the gloriously slow unwinding that is the essence of autumn, rooting through those layers of meaning and experience. The equinox is almost here, and then the descent into the dark half of the year begins. Let us unwind with the season and find ourselves in the wilds once more.
EMMA KATHRYN
Emma Kathryn, practises traditional British witchcraft, Vodou and Obeah, a mixture representing her heritage. She lives in the sticks with her family where she reads tarot, practises witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
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