Autumn days are slipping ever closer to winter here. I can tell I'm naturally making the shifts toward hibernation as I lean into days of mass organizing when the energy lends itself. Through the last week I've been tidying and came across a stack of pictures yet to be stored in the portfolio under my desk. So, in the spirit of new beginnings, I wanted to share some artwork, lessons, and poetry dedicated to plant allies I've worked with this last year. I hope to have a short haiku collection collated within a few months, so here's a preview of that!

Rebirth

A dead rose wakes, dozy
A fresh stem from splintered stalks
Old is new again.

Rose is a special one for me as it's the first plant I connected with on my plant path. When we moved into our home, rose bushes of various states surrounded the front of our house. I have tended to and nursed a few rose bushes back from withered stalks with the help of my plant-loving partner. Pruning them to help them, giving them banana peels to eat, and bringing stalks back from the dead have taught me monumental lessons in cycles, shedding, and how having thorns is vital in being the best blossom you can be. I add their gorgeous petals to baths for self-love and enjoying the luxury in stillness.

Childhood

Cat tails are kindred
If I listen hard enough
They speak as I walk.

Cat tails are an ancestor-based plant to me. In childhood they surrounded where I grew up and were a must in bouquets for my Grandma that I picked with Poppa at the cricks edge. It wasn't until this year in my studies that I learned that most Cat tails are an invasive species but, when maintained, purify the soils in which they live. My ancestors may be from other lands, but I was born here and while I live here, I can try to be a force of good in life and respect the land I dwell on. Listening to and tending to the land spirits and house spirits is sacred and important. This lesson I attribute to the Cat tail.

Self-Heal

Prunella lies low
tasking those who wish to meet
to be down to Earth.

Prunella Vulgaris or self-heal has been a physical ally this year on multiple levels. As it grows almost anywhere pesticides aren't, our lawn sprouts in their purple splashes from Spring to Autumn. My family and I began picking them for tea this year and it helps with many things (hence the name self-heal) but I use it mainly for its benefits in the gut. This plant is beautiful and abounds in helpful energy if you are willing to forage. Going out to my yard and picking herbs to help my stomach was a very grounding and meditative, magical process. This aided in balancing my treatment and taking back self- confidence in my own health care.

Winter Pathwork 2023

And there you have it, messages from a year of a death witch working in the soil. As for Winter, I plan on diving into some deep projects to last me through the snow. For the second year in a row, I'm connecting with the season of winter and death in my pathworking alongside lighter projects on the side to keep myself centered. The death work will revolve around winter walks to a local cemetery to culminate in a final project sometime next year, whereas the lighter projects are some painting ideas and a storybook in very slow development. Magically, I'm focusing on grounding practices and ancestor work themes with other deities recently stepping out of the shadows and onto my path to aid in that discovery.

New steps into the frigid darkness to guide oneself back to the fire.

What does Winter whisper to you?
Do you hear it calling?