The in between spaces.
Places that are neither here nor there and packed with potential.
I've mused about this time of year previously and how the magick of early November, that quiet time after the plastic stickiness and insanity of Halloween passes--but before the mania of the Holiday boot meets your ass is exquisite.
It's an in between space and often disregarded and sniffed at as boring, dreary, and worst of all: Brown.
It's an e x h a l e. There is the instinct to hunker down, to retreat, and to prepare.
A sedation much like the delectable fuzzy state of being beneath the covers and knowing you don't have to wake up just yet.
November comes with an elegant austerity and a renewed love of the mundane and creature comforts.
I find myself craving the simplicity I see reflected in Nature around me. The subtle shifts of color, the peculiar quality of the quickly fading light and the rudimentary skeletal beauty of branches and tall grasses. Bright mornings. Persistent Fog.
Nothing mussy. Nothing fussy.
November gets things done.
This time is filled with burrowing, trimming away, sweeping out, making medicines, stocking the pantry, savoring transitions, s l o w i n g d o w n, watching my breath turn into hot clouds, pretending to be invisible and stalking around in the growing night...
What do you have planned for the space in between?
Much Magick, XOXO