Hail and Farewell, Goddess!

We surely are about to die.

The crossroads are steeped in mystery and folklore. The place where two or more roads intersect is a liminal space, a no man’s land belonging to no person. Perhaps that is why they are places of magick and folklore. Perhaps this is why they are spaces to commune with the spirits of the wild, unseen forces that pull at us. In this world where every inch of land is owned, where we are expected to be on the go, never stopping, trying to fit it all in, where we must always be something other than our true natures, perhaps that is why the crossroads call to us.

And yet the wheel turns. Hermeticism tells us nothing stands still. The principle of rhythm is ever in effect. The cycles of nature are no different. Whether you follow the wheel of the year or not, whether you believe in it wholeheartedly or see it as a modern creation, there can be no denying that nature moves in cycles.