It’s the time of year for Wassailing in the apple-growing regions of England (Herefordshire, Somerset, Worcestershire, etc), and places where the weather is warm enough that fruit trees can blossom. (In Ontario, Canada, we wait until February to do the Wassailing.)
Continue readingNature
The holly and the ivy
Pagan version by Yvonne Aburrow, 2022
The holly and the ivy
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown
Chorus: O, the rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The bright fire on the hilltop
At the turning of the year.
Anarchic Yule
Yule is a distinct festival, often overshadowed by its younger sibling, Christmas. If you’re a Pagan or have Pagan leanings, the chances are that everything you love about Christmas is actually because it’s a Yule thing. If you love the tree, the holly, the greenery being brought into the house, the feasting, and the reciprocity of thoughtful gift giving (as opposed to obligatory gift giving dictated by social norms), then you love Yule. Yule is not “Christmas with the serial numbers filed off”, and Christmas isn’t “Yule with added Baby Jesus”, Yule is far more exciting and wild and numinous than that.
Continue readingMonarch butterflies
In Mexico, Monarch butterflies are associated with the Day of the Dead, because that’s when they arrive back there after their long migration from Canada. The Day of the Dead is on the same day as Samhain and Hallowe’en and comes from the same roots.
Continue readingSeasonal markers
Crow at @marget.inglis_witchcraft asks, what are the markers of the turning of the seasons for you. Not public holidays or specific festivals, high days & holy days, but those moments when you notice a change every year.
Here are mine for our house and garden in southern Ontario:
Continue readingGood night, Moon
Inspired by the title, and the quasi-animism, of Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon, which I only found out existed today, as it was featured on CBC.
Continue readingThe winters of my childhood
In the 1970s, I remember proper snow in Hampshire, England. We would go out for walks and the snow would be ankle-deep (on me, a child) and collected in drifts against the fences. The snow only lasted a few days, but when it came, it blanketed the countryside in white and transformed it. I remember building a snowman in the back garden for quite a few years.
Continue readingLily minds
If we saw the brain
As an elaborately folded flower
Containing thought bees
Nestling among the petals
Searching for nectar
We might think of the soul
As the roots of that flower
Drawing nutrients from the river mud.
Inspired by the phrase “lily-minds” in Elegies by Kathleen Ossip.

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Books I read in April 2022
Dragon Rider #2: The Griffin’s Feather, Cornelia Funke
Another exciting tale of magical creatures, with lots of thoughts about conservation and wildlife.
India: one man’s personal journey round the continent, Sanjeev Bhaskar
The fact that Sanjeev Bhaskar is part of the Indian Diaspora and visited India as a child gives him a really good perspective on India, as both insider and outsider. He also writes in a very engaging way, so this book is easy to read. The TV series it was written to accompany was also very good, and both the book and the series explore the multifaceted nature of modern India. He also writes very movingly about Partition, the massacres that took place, and its effects, both on his family and on India and Pakistan.
If you enjoyed this post, you might like my books.
“into the twilight woods”
Twilight. Betwixt. Liminal.
The setting sun
Making an archway
Through the trees
A window to infinity.
Things half-seen
In the mazy places.
Not sure where this path goes.
Maybe through, or within.
Some hollow place.
The half-light transforms
Known into unknown.
The woods drift between.
Trees asleep,
Nocturnal animals stirring.
Shadows gather.
Time stretches out,
Ready to pounce.
One star. Night’s eye.
Colours drain away.
Everything waits
For moonrise,
To flood the woods
With silver.
Yvonne Aburrow
8:15 am, 29 April 2022
Inspired by the phrase “into the twilight woods” in Iowa City: Early April by ROBERT HASS
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