The moon, ever shifting through phases of silvery light, holds unique, potent energies that can guide and support us through the sacred rhythms of life. Living in sync with the moon is especially helpful when it comes to pursuing our passion projects, as the progression of moon phases naturally supports creation, growth, culmination, and release. Each phase of the moon holds its own magic, which we can draw upon to assist us in these endeavors as well as to celebrate our achievements along the way. I’ve crafted a full moon herbal bath salt to help you do just that.

UNIQUE ENERGIES OF THE EIGHT PHASES OF THE MOON

Dark/New Moon
This lunar phase’s energy invites us to a place of darkness and stillness, a watery womb of rebirth where we can begin again if we choose. It’s an ideal phase for inner reflection and sowing seeds of intention for long-term growth.

Waxing Crescent
The sliver of light of the waxing crescent stirs new energy that can help us set our intentions in motion through goal setting and action. Nurture the seeds you planted by taking practical steps toward your desires.

First Quarter
The moon is half light and half dark during this phase, with energy expanding outward. Continue with actions toward your goals, making decisions and dealing with any obstacles along the way. Refine and reshape your plan as needed and continue moving forward with perseverance and steadfastness.

Waxing Gibbous
Energy is rapidly building. This is a good time to evaluate your progress, continue to refine your intentions, and prepare for culmination.

Full Moon
This is the culminating phase of full illumination and lunar power at its peak. It’s a time to celebrate your achievements while also taking some time for self-care, for cleansing and recharging in this phase’s abundant energy.

Waning Gibbous
After the peak, the process of release begins. It’s a time to feel grateful for your growth and all that you’ve learned, while at the same time letting go of any excess that doesn’t serve your desires.

Last Quarter
As the moon is once again half lit, the energy of the last quarter turns inward. Resolve any unfinished business, tie up loose ends, and continue to clear what no longer serves your goals.

Waning Crescent
Also known as the Crone’s Moon, this final sliver of light before the darkness invites us to enter into rest and let go so we can begin anew, whether that be with a new passion project or a new phase of an existing project.

Full Moon Celebration Bath Salt

It’s important to pause and celebrate our achievements in life—both the small steps along the way as well as larger, culminating events. The peak phase of the moon is an ideal time for celebrating these milestones.

I’ve created a full moon herbal bath salt to help you celebrate and honor yourself and your work in the form of self-care and self-reverence. Bathe in the full luminosity of this moon phase and fully indulge in the experience of this luxurious botanical preparation, which will relax and uplift you, cleanse your aura, recharge your spirit, and ready you to fully soak up the potent lunar energy of the full moon.

Ingredients:

• 1 cup Epsom salts

• ½ cup Himalayan pink salt

• 1 tablespoon each of dried rose petals or buds (unsprayed), lavender buds, and chamomile blossoms

• 10 to 20 drops total of essential oil (I like to add 8 drops each of frankincense and copaiba essential oils)

How-to:

Blend the salts together in a glass bowl.

Add the dried herbs and gently stir them into the mixture. Add the essential oils drop by drop, continuing to stir as you do, incorporating the oil evenly into the mixture. If you’d like, put your bath salts on a windowsill beneath the light of the full moon, to be charged by its potent energy.

Add ½ to 1 cup of the salts to your bathwater. Enjoy your full moon bath and celebrate you!

Bring the Vibrant Energy of the Forest Into Your Home

Beneath a canopy of coniferous emerald and autumnal lden boughs, I wander with a woven basket swinging ntly at my side. I weave between the trunks of sentient trees, through fern and hollow; the moss soft beneath my feet is like a velvet path. I move as if I’ve always belonged to the woods, with a sense of peace and a sense of home. The trees whisper an ancient language I understand as I stoop to slowly and reverently gather bits of moss that smell of rain and inky-capped mushrooms blooming in a bed of clover.

Upon returning home, I lay out my forest treasures on the rustic farm table with care: birch twigs, tufts of soft moss, and acorns smooth and shining, still warm from the earth. With eager but patient hands, I begin to play with my treasures, carefully incorporating the pieces together, binding the sticks with twine, and shaping each natural ornament into diamond-like structures. I adorn them with foraged finds, creating pleasing patterns, adding pops of color, and combining textures to make ornamental charms that hold the energies of the forest.

Acorns for growth.
Birch twigs for healing.
Moss for resilience.

When the ornaments are finished, I return with them to the forest, hanging them on low branches, whispering thanks to the spirits of the land. With these natural gifts they gave to me, I make them offerings to show gratitude and to feel the oneness between us. I keep these ornaments hanging in the trees of the forest for a little while so the fae spirits can enjoy and absorb their energy, then I bring them back into my home to serve as decorative, sacred portals that keep me connected to the realm of the woodland.

Make your own

You’ll need:

• Small, fallen tree branches cut to lengths of 5 to 6 inches (there are plenty on the forest floor)
• Hot glue sticks and a glue gun
• A small length of twine
• Adornments from nature: moss, lichen, dried herbs, dried flowers (I like rosebuds and silvery mugwort, as they hold their color), pinecones, acorns, seeds, bones, shells
• Other baubles: crystals (tiny gems and small crystal towers), old keys, coins, ribbons, and other personal trinkets

Instructions:

• Form a diamond shape with four branches, overlapping them where they meet.
• Secure each overlapping corner with a dot of hot glue and some twine wound and knotted. Make a loop through the twine at the top of the ornament for hanging.

• Decorate your ornament by gluing your natural adornments to the sticks. Trim off the brown backing of the moss before adhering it.

Keep your moss looking fresh and green

• Keep your woodland decoration out of direct sunlight.
• Occasionally spritz the moss of your decoration with a fine mist of water.
• Once the color naturally fades, you can bring it back to life by painting the moss with a mixture of watercolor or acrylic craft paint mixed with glycerin and water. Choose a green paint that’s close to the color of your moss. You can mix it with other colors to achieve the best color match. In a separate container, mix one part glycerin with two parts warm water. Slowly add some of the water-glycerine mixture to the paint, stirring, achieving a consistency that is thin but not too runny. With a foam brush, dab the mixture onto the moss and allow it to dry.

Encountering a butterfly often evokes feelings of joy, lightness, and a sense of wonder at nature’s magical beauty. As an avid gardener living in Maine, I’ve had the privilege of witnessing the most stunning gossamer-winged butterflies (officially known as Lycaenidae, the second-largest family of butterflies, with more than 6,000 species worldwide) as they flutter their delicate, shimmering wings around me, alighting on the garden flowers and pollinating their tender centers. It gives me enormous pleasure to cultivate my garden alongside these fairylike creatures so that we can live among the beautiful flowers together. I’ve been mesmerized by the likes of brightly colored American coppers, atalas, great purple hairstreaks, spring azures, and white admirals.

So it should come as no surprise that I’d be delighted by the butterfly pea flower (Clitoria ternatea), an herbaceous climbing plant native to Thailand and Malaysia with large solitary butterfly-shaped flowers that give the plant its name. These flowers can be lovingly wildcrafted into an enchanting and whimsical tea—a potion of natural brilliant blue that turns mystical hues of purple and pink when a splash of citrus juice is added. This earthy, floral tea can be served iced with lemon as a refreshing summer beverage, one perfect for sipping in the garden among these enchanted beings.

Not only is this magnificent flower celebrated for its vivid hue; it’s also cherished for its wellness benefits. Butterfly pea flower is known to sharpen memory, induce a sense of calm, lift one’s mood, reduce inflammation, maintain healthy blood sugar levels, and promote glowing skin. What’s not to love?

Brew some of this magical elixir for your next garden party and let the fairy tale begin!

Butterfly Pea Flower Iced Tea Recipe

Makes 4 servings

• Quart-sized mason jar
• 1 quart water
• 8 teaspoons dried butterfly pea flower
(you can order online from wildhibiscus.com)
• 2 lemons
• Maple syrup, or other sweetener

Brew the Tea
Boil 4 cups of water.
Add the butterfly pea flower to the mason jar.
Pour boiling water over it.
Steep for five minutes and strain out the plant matter. Cool gradually to room temperature before chilling in the refrigerator, to avoid cracking glass due to sudden temperature change. Chill in the refrigerator.
Tip: A tea strainer perfectly fits the top of a small-mouth mason jar and allows for easy removal of the plant matter after steeping.

Make the Iced Tea
Fill 4 glasses with ice cubes and 2 or 3 small slices of lemon.
Sweeten to taste. I recommend maple syrup.
Squeeze the juice of one lemon and divide equally into the four glasses.Pour chilled tea into each glass and stir. Garnish with a lemon slice. Enjoy!

When spring finally arrives after a long winter’s nap, you’ll find me foraging in the forests and fields that surround my home, harvesting medicinal wildflowers, plants, and mushrooms. As with any kind of activity, it’s nice to pause and fully take in the beauty that’s waking up all around us.

One of my favorite ways to carve out slow-paced, quiet time for myself and luxuriate with the plants and fungi is through a ritual of making and drinking a relaxing yet energizing natural brew made of infused chaga mushroom. Chaga grows in abundance in the dense Maine woods that surround my home.

About Chaga

Chaga, commonly known as Black Gold, the Diamond of the Forest, and the Mushroom of Immortality, is considered a powerful medicinal and magical fungus. Humans have been working with it for thousands of years, and it has an especially deep-rooted history in Siberian folk medicine. The word chaga comes from the Russian word czaga, which means mushroom.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: Chaga is not actually a mushroom (a fleshy, fruiting body) but hard mycelial armor known as sclerotia. This bulbous, parasitic body matures slowly into a corky conk (a mushroom growing from a tree trunk) with a rough, blocky texture, typically on white and yellow birch trees in the coldest regions of North America, Siberia, and Scandinavia. Maine is a chaga hotspot.

Chaga is considered an adaptogenic superfood and is revered for its high concentration of beta-glucan, a micronutrient believed to have immune-supporting properties. Sadly, chaga has become subject to commercial exploitation and overharvesting. That is why it’s imperative to harvest it in a responsible and sustainable way, from a living, standing birch tree. Look for chaga specimens that are at least the size of a large grapefruit, preferably larger, and that have a vibrant orange-brown interior. It’s best practice to leave some of it behind for regeneration, though regrowth is highly variable; it may regenerate fully in two years or not at all. It takes eight or more years for chaga to mature enough for harvesting.

Once chaga is harvested and broken into smaller chunks, it’s best dried in a dehydrator on a low temperature (around 100°F) for 24 hours. Give it a rest for one day, then dry it again for another 24 hours. If you’d rather purchase your chaga, Birch Boys is a great place to do so, as it is transparent about its use of sustainable practices. And if you’re interested in foraging for chaga yourself, I recommend doing more research: birchboys. com is a wonderful place to start.

Medicinal and Magical Attributes Disclaimer: Before starting any course
of healing, including natural remedies and supplements, consult with a health-care professional who can help find what’s best and safest for you. If you’re taking medications, pregnant, or nursing, definitely do not start using chaga until you speak to a qualified medical caregiver. Chaga may interact with certain medications or cause allergic reactions in some people.

Chaga is not a psychedelic fungus, as it does not contain psilocybin. But research shows that it is rich in antioxidants and anti-inflammatories, boosts the immune system, improves energy, and can be used for soothing arthritis and managing high blood pressure. It contains antiviral properties, supports healthy blood sugar levels, lowers cholesterol, supports a healthy liver, is beneficial for digestive health, and is used in cancer therapy.

Magically speaking, chaga is associated with intuition and wisdom, and it may be used in rituals to enhance psychic abilities and deepen meditation. It’s also associated with transformation (specifically with changing and letting go), inner peace, healing, vitality, and resilience.

Uses

Chaga is typically brewed as a tea, made into a tincture, or formulated as a powder or capsule. I like to brew my foraged chaga nuggets into a rich, brown, flavorful tea and combine it with warmed cream and maple syrup to make a decaffeinated chaga milk tea. It has a unique and delicious taste—earthy, full-flavored, creamy, and naturally sweet, with notes of vanilla, caramel, dark berries, and cocoa. You can drink it black, but

I prefer adding warmed cream and local maple sugar, which complement chaga’s flavor nicely.

You can also burn chaga as a sweet-smelling incense. I reserve this for special occasions, as chaga is a somewhat rare, precious medicinal, and it can be a little pricey.

Chaga Milk Tea Recipe

• Four 1-to-1½-inch chunks of chaga, or pieces that add up to the equivalent
• 1 quart water
• Cream or milk of your choice
• Maple syrup or other sweetener
• Makes 1 serving

Place water and your nuggets of chaga in a small pot on a stove.

Bring to a boil; boil for 20 minutes.
Turn the heat down to low and simmer for 30 minutes.

You’ll notice the brew darkening as it simmers.

Turn off the stove and remove the chunks of chaga with a large spoon or tongs. The good news is you can get several uses from these chunks, so allow them to dry and use them again for your subsequent brews.

Pour yourself a mug of the tea.

Add cream or your desired type of milk. I like to heat the cream prior to adding it to my brew.

Sweeten to taste with maple syrup. Other sweetener options include honey or sugar, but maple syrup, in my opinion, complements the flavor best.

Most of the water will evaporate in the boiling and simmering process, so you’ll be left with a large single portion or perhaps a small extra amount, depending on the size of your mug.

Important safety note: Chaga contains commonly occurring plant crystals called oxalates (as does spinach, for context), which can be harmful to the kidneys if ingested in large amounts. You can safely drink one to two cups of chaga tea a day, a few times a week.

It is fall, and deep in the ancient groves of the enchanted wood, a woman gathers earthy roots and plump, fragrant mushrooms. She places them in her basket beside wild ruby-red rose hips, juicy dark-purple elderberries, and silvery mugwort gifted by the hedges.

Her hooded woolen cloak brushes against the soft ferns that line the path over spongy moss and pine needles as she makes her way home. There, at the edge of the wood, her small stone cottage is surrounded by goldenrod and purple aster swaying in the breeze. A black cat in the doorframe mews, eagerly awaiting her return.As the teakettle heats over the hearth fire, she crafts a Samhain tea blend with the flora and fungi she’s foraged in the wood. This autumnal tea ritual honors the bounties of harvest time and celebrates the Triple Goddess, who now begins her seasonal transformation from Mother to Crone. The spirit ancestors whisper to her from beyond the veil, which is at its thinnest this time of year.

Join her and the collective of ancestors who came before you by putting together your own Samhain tea ritual celebrating and honoring the vibrancy of autumn, the abundant gifts of the harvest, and the deep love given to and received by one’s ancestors in spirit.

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

The history of Samhain, like the idea that the metaphorical veil between our world and that of the spirits thins at this time, harks back to Druid times—and possibly even further back, being rooted among many pagan peoples. Traditionally at Samhain, the final harvest, all farm tools were put away and the people settled in to rest for winter. We now celebrate the festival from October 31 to November 1.

Samhain has always been a culminating time for celebrations and rituals for giving thanks and connecting with one’s ancestors in the Otherworld. It makes sense to ponder death and make contact with loved ones in the spirit realm when nature reminds us of the impermanence of life. Leaves let go of their hold on the trees; plants lose their vibrancy and return to the earth where they will support the eventual rebirth of life in the spring.

SAMHAIN TEA

Ingredients in this seasonal tea are easy to come by, whether in the wild, your garden, or a trusted purveyor of dried herbs. I personally love the company Mountain Rose Herbs.

Ingredients (dried):
4 small rose hips
1 teaspoon dried elderberries
1 teaspoon dried mugwort
½ teaspoon mushroom powder (look for mushrooms like reishi, chaga, turkey tail, or cordyceps)
A pinch each of ginger root, clove, cardamom, nutmeg, orange peel
1 cinnamon stick

Tea Ritual:

• Set aside time and sacred space where you will not be interrupted.

• Place a large glass or wooden bowl on a surface adorned with things like a beautiful cloth, photos of loved ones (or pets) who have passed, natural outdoor finds of the season (flowers, leaves, berries, nuts, etc.), candles, and incense. This can serve as a personal Samhain altar.

• Combine tea ingredients (except the cinnamon stick) in the bowl with your hands, imbuing the tea blend with your energy and intentions to honor the season, the harvest, and your ancestors.

• To brew a single cup, use one heaping teaspoon of the blend. Steep it in boiling water for 15 minutes with your cinnamon stick.

• If you desire, add milk or cream and sweeten with honey.

• As you sip your tea, focus your intentions once again on your gratitude for the abundant gifts of fall and the harvest, and for the loved ones who have passed. You may wish to brew a second cup to place on your altar to serve as an offering for your beloved ancestors.

• This is a wonderful time to reflect and journal about seasonal themes of abundance, gratitude, love, rest, change, and transformation.

Feature Image:
Titania (1866) by John Simmons
© Bristol Museums, Galleries & Archives / Bridgeman Images

As you wander through the forest, the enchanting melodies of the birds and the gentle rustling of leaves guide your steps deeper into the realm of the fae. Every breath fills you with the essence of the deep wood, connecting you to its ancient energy. The dappling sunlight creates a dance of shadows and light, painting the forest floor with shifting patterns of gold and green. You feel a sense of wonder and reverence for the vibrant life all around you, knowing that you are stepping into a realm where magic is tangible and alive.

“A lady, with whom I was riding in the forest, said to me, that the woods always seemed to her to wait, as if the genii who inhabit them suspended their deeds until the wayfarer has passed onward: a thought which poetry has celebrated in the dance of the fairies, which breaks off on the approach of human feet.” –—Ralph Waldo Emerson

In numerous cultures, the idea of nature fairies—faeries or fae, in more archaic spellings—has fascinated humans, and this affinity has been reflected in religious and spiritual practices, and in various forms of art and storytelling. Timeworn folktales of the fae interacting with human beings have been passed down from generation to generation, across continents.

The English word fairy comes from the Latin fatum. It means “fate,” as do other derivatives around the world, including the French word fée, the Italian fata, and the Scottish variant fae. But however you prefer the word, you can entwine your fate with the fae this summer, if you wish.

A Brief Fairy History

When you hear the word fairy, what kind of vision comes to mind? Do you imagine a tiny feminine sprite with delicate gossamer wings and a gauzy tunic bedecked with sparkle and shine? A kindhearted being that grants wishes, waving a wand with pixie dust trailing behind it? Just like other mythical entities of old—unicorns, dragons, elves, and mermaids—faeries have been morphed by popular culture into modern versions that only vaguely capture the enchantment and splendor of their original forms.

The first “fairy” tales emerged in Greek mythology, where faeries are depicted as fierce protectors of the natural world. The gods and goddesses who created Earth also created these alluring, tiny nymphs of the meadow, forest, trees, and water, each designated to care for their respective natural environments. The masculine nymphs, known as satyrs, are depicted as both good and evil, while the feminine nymphs are portrayed as pure and innocent. Similar creatures can be found in the folklore of other cultures, and are particularly prevalent in the lore of the Celts. Some are benevolent, helpful faeries like pixies and elves; others can be mischievous and spiteful—

especially if they become upset—like leprechauns and Celtic brownies. Other Celtic faeries include the grogochs, merrows, korrigans, dullahans, pookas, and bean sídhes. This collective of legendary, magical beings serves as a foundation for later faerie myths.

During the medieval and Renaissance periods in Europe, the concept of faeries and the belief in them was strong, especially in the British Isles. Like their earlier counterparts, they were associated with nature and believed to inhabit and watch over forests, gardens, and bodies of water.

In the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras of the 16th and 17th centuries, a growing fascination with faeries took place in artistic and literary circles. In his work, Shakespeare portrayed faeries as graceful, otherworldly beings that dwelled in enchanted realms, separate from the world of humans. This concept progressed into the Victorian era, where the idea of faeries became more whimsical and romanticized, as featured visually in artwork by John Anster Fitzgerald, Richard Dadd, Sophie Gengembre Anderson, and numerous others, and musically in Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” from The Nutcracker. Cicely Mary Barker, beloved artist of the early 20th century, adopted a more idealized view of these creatures in her illustrations, portraying them as innocent and childlike with strong connections to nature.

Modern adaptations of the 20th and 21st centuries present faeries as magical beings filled with mystery, some benevolent, some tricksters. Think of J.R.R. Tolkien’s writings about Middle-earth, where the terms elves and fairies are used interchangeably. And of course, there is the Harry Potter series, where we see Neville Longbottom in The Chamber of Secrets with electric-blue Cornish pixies—mischievous, winged creatures flying through the air, wreaking havoc.

Are Faeries Real?

You will have to decide for yourself, but recognize that there have always been and continue to be non-physical, non-tangible mysteries and enchantments that cannot be explained by materialistic thinking or science. As Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet, “There are more things in heaven and earth … than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Think of fairy rings of mushrooms, spiritual sites like Stonehenge, and intricately designed crop circles.

Connecting With the Fae

Spirits of the faerie realm can be felt strongly during the warmer months, when flora are blossoming and wildlife is thriving, and when much needs tending to after awakening from a long winter’s nap.

In my personal experience as a psychic medium living in the woods of rural Maine, I can say that fae energy takes on many forms. Some entities are very small and commune in clusters. I’ve had the gift and pleasure of witnessing fae inside my home that look like green phosphorescence. Other spirits are grand and may watch over the trees. Garden fae will help you design and tend to your gardens, especially more natural, wilder gardens with native plants that support all life in that habitat. For example, I once asked the fae for help with a magnolia tree, and that year it grew a foot and sprouted new branches. Another year I had wild blue vervain pop up out of nowhere in one of my gardens at the edge of the woods. It turned out to be an herb that my body was in need of. Have you ever noticed surprise flora popping up in the soil?

The fae can enter dreams, daydreams, and thoughts. They especially like to enter my thoughts during the summer months (I invite them in), generously helping me on my foraging expeditions. In one early-morning vision, I was shown an

area of a forest nearby filled with ripe, fruity chanterelle mushrooms. When I went to the spot, to my surprise it was just like my dream—lush with these edible mushrooms! On another foraging expedition for medicinal usnea, or beard lichens, I felt taken by an invisible hand in the forest and led to a tree, where I heard the words, “Look up!” I did, and attached all over the tree branches was an abundance of usnea. I’ve also been led to edible and medicinal mushrooms by a black butterfly whose wings were edged in white.

To attract your own fae guides, first spend time with the spirits of the trees. I hug trees if they are willing. I talk to them and thank them. If you listen, they will speak to you. I have a journal filled with wise messages from the trees.

If you make a genuine effort and commitment to connecting with fae energy, you will notice many benefits. Your mood will be uplifted and your inner child will be awakened through feelings of playfulness, wonder, and a sense of freedom. The fae are inspiration for magic, for making art, and for any kind of creative endeavor.

An Exercise for Connecting With the Fae

Visit a favorite natural spot and get comfortable. Close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths. Breathe in the energy offered by the setting. Feel your own energy mixing with it.

The fae spirits of the land will connect and present to you in a natural way of their choice. Open yourself to their wise messages, in whatever manner they decide to communicate with you. You might feel bodily sensations, see light, colors, or hear words or musical sounds. Stay open and observant.

After your session comes to an end (you will feel when it does), give thanks to the fae for their messages and envision yourself disengaging from their energies. Take some time to reground yourself (deep breaths, or a bite of a snack you bring with you). Reflect on the messages you received from the generous nature spirits. Keep those insights in a special journal. Incorporate their guidance into your daily life.

Painting: Take the Fair Face of Woman (1869), by Sophie Gengembre Anderson. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

Are you, like me, a passionate collector of the printed word?

Do you share my somewhat problematic tendency to acquire more books than your bookshelves can properly hold, more than you can possibly read in a timely manner? In my collection you’ll find novels read for pleasure, coveted antique classics, and literary resources for my passions for herbalism, foraging, witchcraft, art, cooking, and more. I must find ways to cleverly store books on bedside tables, in charming baskets and old wooden boxes tucked beneath furniture, and as decorative stacks woven into my home’s decor.

If you happen to share my predicament, I am here to tell you that your library of treasured books need not ever collect the dust of time. They can continually assist you in your spiritual growth. You can draw on their magic to obtain guidance, inspiration, and wisdom.

I’m assuming you are familiar with the practice of divination: the intuitive art of connecting to Spirit (yours included) to discover hidden knowledge and insight. Among the different divinatory practices are cartomancy (tarot and oracle card reading), scrying by gazing into a reflective surface like a crystal ball, tasseomancy (the reading of tea leaves), and bibliomancy (prophesying with books).

The basic idea of bibliomancy is to take any book of your choosing, close your eyes, open to a random page, and drop your finger down on the paper. The word, phrase, or passage you land on serves as inspiration or guidance from a higher place. Prior to opening the book, you could ask a specific question or just be open to receiving general information.

The History of Bibliomancy

The word bibliomancy comes from biblio, meaning “of or relating to a book or books,” and mancy, which translates to “divination by means of.” It is a tradition that dates back to the ancient Romans and the use of sortes to predict one’s future. Sortes were small tablets, usually made of wood, upon which were written lines from celebrated poets. Verses from Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, and Virgil’s Aeneid, were especially popular.The tablets were thrown like dice or placed in a sitella (an urn) filled with water. Whichever verses turned up when cast like dice or drawn from the water were messages applicable to the life of

the person seeking the advice. The same practice was also common among early Christians, who consulted the Bible instead of secular verses—a practice known as sortes biblicae.

Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, the last king of Rome, who reigned from 534 to 509 B.C., practiced bibliomancy using The Sibylline Books, a collection of oracular versus in Greek hexameter purchased from a sybil (an oracle). But the practice of bibliomancy survived into the modern age, surging during the Edwardian period, particularly among the British.

In both the Victorian and Edwardian eras, it was customary to give a book to celebrate significant occasions like birthdays, weddings, or anniversaries, or to ring in the New Year. In fact, Edwardians held a superstitious belief that it was unlucky not to have a book in hand when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s.

Edwardians embraced the idea that books could foretell the future for oneself and one’s family. On New Year’s, it was common to engage in bibliomancy, with the head of family (usually the patriarch) opening their new book to a random page and reading a passage to predict their family’s future for the coming year. Popular books for bibliomancy in this period included much-loved classics like Westward Ho! by Charles Kingsley, Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe, and Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan.

Bibliomancy in Contemporary Practice

I prefer to get somewhat creative with my modern-day bibliomancy. The basic intuitive process is the same: Have a question in mind, or be open to receiving a general message meant for you. Choose the book that calls to you, close your eyes, feel the energy, and drop your finger down on the word, phrase, or passage meant for you. You will intuitively know which one.

As a psychic medium, I know that there is energy around certain things that are meant to happen but that nothing is set in stone. Therefore my advice is to use bibliomancy not as a form of fortune-telling but as a way to receive spiritual guidance and higher wisdom as you exercise your gift of free will.

It’s important to create a sacred space that’s conducive to receiving enlightened information. Light a candle, play soft music, bring in crystals and flowers (I love spring lilacs, as they enhance connection to the spirit realm), close your eyes, feel

your breath, and imagine your beautiful energy connecting to the ether.

When selecting your book, you can choose a novel, poetry, a classic, a book customarily used in the past for bibliomancy, a work of nonfiction, or even a dictionary. You can also look to your favorite author for guidance.

Expanding Upon the Traditional Practice of Bibliomancy

Traditional bibliomancy can be likened to drawing an oracle card or doing a one-card tarot pull. With tarot, though, a variety of spreads require multiple cards, so why not try something similar with bibliomancy?

Three-Passage Reading

The most popular three-card tarot spread is the past-present-future card spread, which is generally used to gain a better understanding of self or a situation. We can implement this same structure in bibliomancy. For example, I conducted a three-passage reading with my treasured 1852 copy of Nathaniel

Hawthorne’s The Snow-Image, and Other Twice-Told Tales. For this particular reading, I chose to receive general guidance.

Past: “and mingle my spirit with the wildest of the confusion”

Present: “Instead of the rich man’s wealth and the warrior’s sword, he had but a tongue, and it was mightier than both.”

Future: “the clear sky over my head, and the afternoon sunshine falling gently bright through the window frame and doorway. I heard the tinkling of a cowbell, the twittering of birds, and the pleasant hum of insects.”

Five-Passage Reading

A five-passage spread (based on the traditional five-card spread) is a great option if you want to dig a little deeper. The first passage represents your current situation, and the second represents your response to it. The third represents what is holding you back, and the fourth shows what you can do to change the situation. The fifth passage reveals the likely outcome if you make that change.

Further Tips:

• Think about how the words you land on speak to you personally. The information you receive will most likely be symbolic, not to be taken at face value.

• If the text you land on feels wrong or does not speak to you on an intuitive level, just try again. People often do this when drawing tarot cards. But keep in mind, just because something is seemingly negative, that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Sometimes the most important growth comes from a challenge.

• Don’t feel married to doing traditional spreads. You can make up your own, tailored to your own needs.

• Also, it’s a good idea to take notes in a designated journal, especially if you are doing a multipassage reading and want to remember the information given to you. Jot down the actual words from the book, as well as any intuitive thoughts and impressions you receive. The journal makes a wonderful gift to self—one that you can look back on, reflect upon, and use to witness and celebrate your personal growth.

Summertime is a season that gifts us with plenty, a bounty born of the seeds planted and nurtured—both the actual seeds of plants and the more figurative, personal seeds. It’s harvest time, love! A time to enjoy and celebrate the fruits of your labor. Lughnasadh—also referred to as Lammas—is the first of three harvest-themed sabbats that occurs August 1 and 2 (followed by Mabon and Samhain). Lughnasadh is the age-old Gaelic festival that honors the Celtic sun god Lugh through feasting, libation, athletic games, and creative storytelling. This holiday is also a time to rejoice over the ripening and harvesting of the first grains and other bounties, especially wheat, corn, and berries, which are abundant at this time. Lughnasadh invites us to focus on sentiments of hope, thankfulness, blessings, abundance, and sacrifice—all attributes that center on agriculture and harvest.

There are lots of simple ways to tap into the harvest energy of this pagan holiday, to make it a meaningful, personalized celebration. As a green witch and herbalist, I find that summer plants from the garden and wild play an important role in my observance of Lughnasadh. I forage for them, co-create with them to make botanical body-care preparations, and incorporate them into culinary delights to be honored and savored at this harvest feast. The wild blackberries and raspberries are ripe, plump, and juicy on their canes this time of year. I enjoy walks through nature, picking bucketfuls, tasting and savoring their warm, tarty-sweet juices as I harvest. My family and friends look forward to my wild berry margarita, a festive and fruity libation that makes a great addition to any Lughnasadh feast. It provides refreshment in the hot weather, is a satisfying way to celebrate the summer yield of berries, and can be used to make a toast acknowledging the rewards of harvest time. (I also supply a non-alcoholic alternative below.)

Start by making a wild berry simple syrup:

Combine 1 cup of sugar with 1 cup of water in a saucepan and simmer it on the stove, stirring occasionally until the sugar dissolves into the water. Once the sugar has dissolved, add 1 cup of wild berries to the mixture and simmer for 20 minutes. If you don’t have access to wild berries, store-bought ones will work just fine. Remove your preparation from the stove after 20 minutes and allow it to cool some. Strain out the plant matter using a fine mesh strainer lined with cheesecloth. Allow the syrup to further cool. While mine is cooling, I like to gather summer flora from my gardens and from wild spots on my property to adorn my altar and feast table. I especially like to gather orange and yellow flowers, as the two colors are associated with Lughnasadh.

Once the syrup chills, it’s time to make the margarita …

Ingredients (for one):

2 ounces tequila
¾ ounce wild berry simple syrup
Fresh juice of ½ or 1 lime

Instructions:

Swipe a wedge of lime over the rim of your glass and dip the edge in a plate of kosher salt. Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, shake, and strain into a pretty glass. Garnish with a lime wedge.

Non-alcoholic version: Mix this wild berry simple syrup and lime with soda water for a delicious non-alcoholic alternative.

Cheers! Have a blessed Lughnasadh!

Feature Image:
Nymphs Dancing to Pan’s Flute (1920), by Joseph Tomanek

Have you heard of the springtime festival called Walpurgisnacht? If you hail from northern or central Europe, you are most likely familiar with this nighttime party with witchy roots. If you live in the United States, like me, you probably haven’t, unless you’re a pagan or witch who revels in such celebrations or someone who has noticed references to Walpurgisnacht in famous pieces of music, art, theater, and literature: Luis Ricardo Falero’s painting Walpurgisnacht, Felix Mendelssohn’s cantata Die erste Walpurgisnacht, Goethe’s Faust, Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and Bram Stoker’s short story “Dracula’s Guest” all depict the mystery and the macabre of this enchanting, eerie night.

As a pagan witch, I observe the eight holidays of the neo-pagan Wheel of the Year, called sabbats. The sabbats are based on seasonal ancient pagan celebrations that correspond with solstices (winter and summer), equinoxes (fall and spring), and cross-quarter days (days that fall equally between a solstice and an equinox). On April 30 of each year, the witch’s wheel makes yet another turn, and I like to kick off the eve of Beltane with the coinciding holiday, Walpurgis Night (also known in Germany as Hexennacht), as it tickles some of my ancestral pagan roots. And I’ll admit, it is a good excuse for a spooky party with Halloween-like elements. This modern-day European and Scandinavian festival is actually a blend of both Christian and ancient pagan Celtic and Germanic celebrations. It’s named after Walpurga, a young British nun and Christian saint who lived as a missionary in the Frankish Empire during the eighth century. Observance of her canonization day, May 1, eventually fused with Norse celebrations of spring and Beltane.

Beltane and Samhain (which coincides with Halloween) are six months apart and directly opposite each other on the Wheel of the Year. (When it’s Beltane in the Northern Hemisphere, it’s Samhain in the Southern Hemisphere). Pagans often refer to Walpurgisnacht as the second Halloween. It is customary to dress up as a witch, devil, or other supernatural being and go trick-or-treating in the village of your town. Like Samhain, it is thought of as an in-between astrological event where the veil between the earthly realm and spirit world is said to thin, making it an opportune time to communicate with spirits and the fae. Bonfires are lit to keep malevolent spirits at bay, and there are parties with food and drink and ceremonies where you can release negative energies and experiences from the year by writing them down on paper and tossing them into the bonfire. Traditionally, it is customary to drink alcohol and make noise to both ward off negative energies and welcome the souls of departed loved ones. It is also customary to make offerings of the deceased’s favorite foods.

There are regional variations of this holiday. For instance, many Germanic people celebrate an old belief that thirty witches across Europe mounted their broomsticks at night and flew to Brocken (the highest part of the Harz Mountains in north-central Germany) to gather and welcome the return of spring. Organized community festivities abound in the Harz Mountain region on Walpurgisnacht, including bonfires, partygoers in witchy costumes, springtime rituals, customary food and drink, fireworks, and entertainment
in the form of jugglers, magicians, bands, comedians, and dance.

Since many of us probably won’t make it to the Harz Mountain region to join in the fun, we can make some of our own dark merriment on this evening. Here are some ideas for celebrating at home:

• Decorate with spring flowers and fresh greens. If you’re lucky like me, you may still have pumpkins and gourds left over from Samhain. I save mine, storing them in a cool, dark place and then retrieve them for Walpurgis Night decor.

• Connect with the element of fire, symbolic of the sun and the presence of more light. Light some candles. Make a bonfire outdoors, or if that’s not feasible, make a miniature one in your cast-iron cauldron.

• Write down negative memories, thoughts, and feelings from the year that you would like to release and toss these slips of paper into your bonfire.

• Just like at Samhain-time, the veil is said to be thin on this evening. As a spirit medium, I don’t necessarily believe it’s actually thinner, but with all the collective energy around spirit communication on this night, it can make it easier to connect. That being said, Walpurgis Night is an opportune time for spirit communication and divination practice with such tools as tarot, runes, pendulum, and automatic writing.

• Watch a spooky flick. If you’re an isolated witch like me, consider having a virtual watch party with witchy kin.

• Play some atmospheric music. Do a search for “Walpurgis Night” on Spotify, and you’ll find a treasure trove of celebratory tunes.

• Read some old ghost stories by candlelight and nibble on some chocolate treats.

• Brew yourself a cup of mugwort tea (avoid if pregnant). Mugwort is known as the witch’s flying herb and can produce some interesting vivid dreams: visualize yourself flying to Brocken. To make, use a tablespoon of dried herb per cup of boiling water. Steep 15 minutes, strain out plant matter, add honey to sweeten, and enjoy. Mugwort is somewhat bitter and a mild sedative, so avoid driving or operating machinery after consuming it.

This nighttime magical celebration continues until the next day, May 1, which is Beltane. Beltane marks the beginning of fertile spring, and the beginning of the days of light returning in full glory.

It is a privilege to be the keeper of a historic, quaint cemetery in my small Maine town—a magical place hidden within the forest, accessible by an old wagon trail. The hallowed ground is natural and wild, covered in varieties of spongy moss, wild violets, maiden pinks, white yarrow, pine straw, and crisp fallen leaves. The space is tenderly enveloped by towering oak, white pine, and hemlock trees that come together at their tops to form a protective arch above the stones. The air has an earthy, woodsy, slightly sweet smell that blends naturally and seamlessly with the tendrils of memory upon the wind.

Our town has more than seventy historic cemeteries. Some of them very small, with only a few graves, while others are much larger, like the one for which I am keeper.

I’ll never forget the day I first approached it. Someone had told me about this place of beauty, and I knew I had to find it.  My eye was drawn to a tiny fragment of stone peeking through fallen leaves, just at the entrance to the graveyard. When I gently brushed away the leaves, a broken plaque emerged, revealing a single name upon the stone. It was my name: Susan. You can well imagine my surprise. I fell in love, and I knew I was meant to be the keeper of this special cemetery, taking care of the stones and the sacred space. I contacted the town’s cemetery committee. There were two volunteer keepers at that time, neither of whom had the time, energy, or interest to invest in it, so I was appointed in their place. Everyone (spirits included) was very happy.

In this role, I am essentially a groundskeeper. I pick up fallen debris from trees, pull weeds and saplings from around the stones, and plant traditional foliage to keep erosion at bay. I’m also record keeper, keeping note of the stones and their conditions, the dead tree limbs that may fall and need attention, and stones that need repair or resetting.

Most of my work is done in the spring and fall. I visit this enchanting, sacred place pretty regularly throughout the year, not only to lovingly tend to the gravestones and grounds, but to find peace and quiet in the stillness, connect with nature and those who came before, and spend time with my thoughts. The majority of my job involves cleaning the headstones, nearly 100 of them, from the simply crafted ones made of slate, marble, and granite to the more natural rock monuments and the fancier memorial stones painstakingly designed in a gothic style. I was trained in a gentle, internationally used technique for cleaning by a member of the committee, who was trained by the Maine Old Cemetery Association, in Augusta, our state capital.

I suspect I am not alone when it comes to enjoying time in inviting, old cemeteries. I imagine that you, dear reader, might be able to relate. I sometimes bring along a sprig of rosemary for remembrance, to honor the dead. I notice the names particular to an earlier age, beautiful old first names like Bainbridge, Desiah, Content, and Love.

I also like to bring along poetry from that era, the 18th and 19th centuries, to read among the graves. Maybe these townspeople of long ago read some of this very same literature, much of it on themes of death. So often they would have been surrounded by death; the death culture and etiquette makes this plain. I imagine the family and friends of the deceased would have turned to poetry as an outlet for their grief and to attempt to find solace. Some of it, no doubt, was read in the cemetery, as I do now.

Have you ever heard of the Graveyard Poets? Also referred to as the Churchyard Poets, these 18th-century British writers were known for their explorations of the fleeting nature of life,  death, bereavement, and the afterlife. They were not afraid to embrace the darker side of death, as their poems were filled with gloomy imagery, elaborate descriptions of graveyards, skulls, bones, and other macabre fascinations. This made them precursors to the gothic novelists who would come in their wake. Some of their works were written as personal elegies for the deceased, while others reflected about death’s impact more generally.

Here is an excerpt from noted Graveyard Poet Thomas Parnell’s well-known poem “A Night-Piece on Death”:

Those graves, with bending osier bound,
That nameless heave the crumpled ground,
Quick to the glancing thought disclose
Where Toil and Poverty repose.
The flat smooth stones that bear a name,
The chisel’s slender help to fame
(Which ere our set of friends decay
Their frequent steps may wear away),
A middle race of mortals own,
Men, half ambitious, all unknown.

Other Graveyard Poets of note include Robert Blair, Edward Young, and Thomas Gray. If you fancy spending quiet alone time within the walls of a historic and peaceful cemetery among the beautiful old stones and epitaphs, I invite you to bring along a book of poetry written by a Graveyard Poet to inspire you and help you connect with the past, to honor and understand those who came before.

Death is a natural part of the life cycle—of birth, death, and rebirth. There cannot be life without death, light without the darkness, nor joy without sadness. The Graveyard Poets and the later gothic writers embraced this sentiment. I am reminded by poignant lines that death is not really an ending but a beginning and that the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead are blurred. As Edgar Allan Poe so aptly puts it in “The Premature Burial”: “The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and the other begins?”