Last night the waxing moon was a vision dancing almost directly overhead, and Spencer and I went out into the cold garden in early evening to greet her. It could have been our imagination, but it seemed a little warmer out there then it usually does at that time, and our thoughts took a cheerful turn. One of these days, the snow in the garden will have disappeared completely, and like happy plants, we will dwell outside under the old trees, rooted, contented and part of the flowering throng.
In recent dreams, I have been wandering around in the orchard. The apple trees are in bloom and filled with happy buzzing bees; the wildflowers below are aflutter with dancing swallowtail butterflies. Both omens and cantrips, I take the dreams to mean that it is time to order that new close up lens I have been considering all winter.
The hearts of lilies yet unknown are beckoning, the shimmering wings of dragonflies, spider webs beaded with early dew, the glossy eyes and gloriously furred backs of legions of summer bumblebees. Ahead lie perfect hours in the presence of wonder and the elemental grace at the heart of existence, witness to the wild and perfect mysteries that light up our days and fill our nights with stars.
Source: magic-and-spells.blogspot.com
