It is now 2024, and the weather is becoming warmer. Down in the wetlands the frogs that were not visible or hearable have now returned. Sadly not so many though, but if I walk down to the edge of the wetlands at dusk,evenfall, they are beginning to sing. It is like a sympathy. One high, one low, one a trilling. Then it begins again. In another part of there is the home of the Ibises that roost in the trees at night. Such a site to see them rise, open their wings and fly off. Mother and Father Ducks are busy with their tribes and the Kookaburras, sit in their trees and laugh. Everything has a season and I in particular have noted the timing and appearances of flowers. They don't appear all at once but one appears, and then there is a blending as the newer one appears , then another and another. Now the yellow petal daisy is everywhere. So too, in the garden, as I have literarily hundreds of nasturtiums in their many shades of colours. October is a lovely month and soon, in fact in four days time it is Halloween. It is also Beltane, in this country, but not too many people follow that or are aware of it. So Halloween, it is. I have written a few poems regarding it but I will put them here if you would like to read them. There is so much witchey history, regarding Beltane and it would be nice to participate in a Maypole dance once more. It will be Summer soon and we are in the last throngs of Spring. The Goddess for Spring is Brighid, and she brings forth the flowers, the birthing of lambs, in fact all to do with Spring. In the Northern Climes there are so many stories about her appearance, and the bringing of the snowdrops etc, but we here in WA do not have snow, so we have to find our own way of working with her I think. I will leave it here as I am beginning to ramble. I will report about Halloween, and of course the rhymning of the River Swan.
Whimisal Clouds, and Birds
Day by day by the Swan River and Wetlands.
8the September,
New Moon on the horizon and it will be in Virgo.
Whether I walk with Lily, I dream too. Today, after more rain had fallen, and for a time it did not, as I walked I observed the strange wimsical clouds, their shapes as you can see dispersin and reforming. Birds hovered and sailed with the wind, smaller birds chasing the larger ones from their next. It was a barney day, a days as if mother nature took a break and let the remainder of us to just be. The impace of the clouds in the water as a weak sun shone down reflected these images.
Mr and Mrs Duck, bring their babies at dusk out on to the grass by the wetlands. I see them gobble up insects as father tall and regal watches. They do not go too far from the shore. They need to watch out for the Ravens.
All my writing is connected to the river, and I often think of myself as Ratty, who boated and lived by the river.
This river is ancient, and holds many secrets, so say the She Oaks, who mostly reside along its banks, and very close to the edge, so that their roots often splatter in the mud, as their lean out over the river, its limbs rests for darters and pelicans at night. I often feel I am observed but that is due to the fae, herabouts.
The Crone requires an audience. I will bring her in tomorrow.
September 3
The Goddesses for September which is September in my neck of the Woods are worth exploring for their guidance and understanding of ourselves. So Spring is a dynamically charged time of year that brings forth what has remained quietly invisible throught the Winter months. What has remaioned unseen, now breaks ground. Prepare a personal ritual of rite of passage to celebrate the myster and power of the invisible made visible. Your ritural can be a simple solo ceremony or a community celebration involving others for added support and shared experiences. I’ll begin with Tiamat, the dragon Wisdom from the days of Babylon, Her affirmation is ,”I make life-enhancing decisions. I face my feaars with courage, seeing them for what they are. I am Dragon wise, I show my power. (More tomorrow)
Base it upon your intent for this time of the year, perhaps light a green candle and use your journal to elaborate upon your intention. Invoke one of the Springtime Goddesses to help you stretch your imaginations. Tap into fairytales that invoke Spring or create one for yourself. Remember all change, all healing begins as a thought, a change of consciousness. Translated into vivid and lifestyle adjustments, dramatic results can take place. So be it. More tomorrow.
There is a presence in the river, whether it is the Rainbow serpent, which I believe winds its way along the river day in and day out, connecting to the rainbow above, linking it to the water holes and dams however there is woman figure that I see from time to time, upon the river. I am not sure where she is from but she wears a dress and a cloak. Sometimes, she comes up on the land, standing there wrapped in herself and then vanishes into thin air. So many traditions have found their way to these shores, through Immigrations and maybe set up home here, so there is not one definable deity here. However there is a presence, and the river dreams its way through the countryside, the billabongs, the wetlands to the sea
Photos for this page will be found on my page The Hidden Parchment Nook and Cranny.
Today my focus was upon the continuation of the life cycle and the small flowers, the grasses, the new life pulsating, to the ducklings, and tiny birds.
And again the river is always dreaming,
and I like the Wagyl, the rainbow serpent,
transfer myself to the sky, where I become the Rainbow,
twisting in and out,
giver of life am I thus I ,feed the dry, lagoons, the water hols, the billabongs
I am life. I am a giver of life.
IT IS OCTOBER –
Greetings Everyone. Here in the West we should be experiencing sunny days, cloudless skies and little wind however at present, it is raining, a strong wind is blowing and it is cold. Yes, out with the jumpers again. Variety, yes it certainly is
When I walked down to the river on Friday, it was a warm day, and the scent of flowers followed me everywhere. Spring is a delightful time, for everything is blooming. I took note of the Paper Bark Tree, which has a flower like a golden bottle brush. Tiny white, like daises, cascade across the lawns, so to a yellow one. The black eyed, yellow daisy is exerting itself to be the top coverer of grass. The river seemed to be locked in a block of ice as it was not flowing but still. in fact it looked empty, still, devoid of life. Isa, the Rune is of this energy, and in a way the energy was exploding within but locked in time. Yes, that’s it but she, the river does not have to wait too long to be on the move again. That is nature.
As I strolled through the She Oak Forest, where the floor underneath was riddled with the needles that they dropped. Each needle was etched with tiny yellow lines, like stitches, Upon each branch were forming small pale grey cones, like pine cones, that in time will drop down too. The She Oak is usually found by water, it is a female tree and related to the Oak. The nearest Oak is two blocks away and is a mighty tree but the She Oak is beautiful too in a dainty way. Their roots either dip down in to the river or are very close to it. This area floods in the Winter and the whole of the forest floor is covered in water. Sometimes the ducks swim into it and wander around. There is never a dull moment down by the river Swan.
FALLING LEAVES
Monday 10th January 2022
Today, as we head more into January, I notice the huge trees in my garden have shed masses of their leaves and this lead me s to ponder ‘why.’ It is the middle of Summer here in W. Australia, and hot, so why would trees begin to think this way. Is it programmed within them to do so? I really don’t know, but these trees are massive and the amount of leaves they drop is phenomenal. The strange thing is they don’t drop them altogether, As the drop there are other sections that do not, it is like a programme or time schedule. It leads me to think about the shedding of thoughts, ideas as we grow and change – even to the change in our diets because it now suits either our belief systems or for health reasons. Then one has to question one’s belief systems and how we cull thoughts, ideas, people even from our sacred circle. If we can do this we can do anything so like the tree is new and allow the thoughts, ideas waiting in the wing, reading to be born to link with ua. I have begun a Goddess, Fey, and Norse journal this year and each day I, complete a two-page about her and thoughts and ideas relating to her. Also, I include a picture of the moon and write where the Moon is travelling at this present moment. I add ideas, pictures, small stories, crochet or textile pieces, leaves, flowers, all that is pertinent to the day in hand before I turn the page, and begin anew. I honoured Nut, yesterday, today it is Oshun, who sits upon a moss coloured rock in the middle of a river, holding a fan in one hand and a mirror in another. She is capturing beauty, shapes, colours and all things magic to her. When I meditated upon her, I came to the conclusion I could also let go doubt and concentrate upon the beauty that is about me, and the diversity that is. I could feel the waves about me and as I am a riverwhytche is was most meaningful. Along this pathway, I took from my crystal cabinet and choose a black obsidian crystal ball and tonight I will dive deep into its mysteries.
Riverwytchedreaming- my ramblings….
The wind whispered to me
This is a blog to do with my ramblings in nature, particularly by the river, my writings, and Tarot.
During the last few weeks, here in Western Australia, the weather has been humid, hot, severe wind flow, and now we have rain, lovely rain – but it is still humid. The weather conditions here have changed over the years. When I first came here over 15 years ago, it was hot certainly but not humid. Blame it on ‘global warning’ However upon being down the rver in the early hours of the morning this is what happened.
Above the stars were dancing but could not be seen by mortal eyes struggling with the hot air, succumbing to the breezes, brought in by the silent river, flowing quietly to the sea where long haired mermaids fan themselves upon huge rocks; they too await the change.
An owl hooted, a kookaburra laughed…
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Riverwytchedreaming- my ramblings….
This is a blog to do with my ramblings in nature, particularly by the river, my writings, and Tarot.
During the last few weeks, here in Western Australia, the weather has been humid, hot, severe wind flow, and now we have rain, lovely rain – but it is still humid. The weather conditions here have changed over the years. When I first came here over 15 years ago, it was hot certainly but not humid. Blame it on ‘global warning’ However upon being down the rver in the early hours of the morning this is what happened.
Above the stars were dancing but could not be seen by mortal eyes struggling with the hot air, succumbing to the breezes, brought in by the silent river, flowing quietly to the sea where long haired mermaids fan themselves upon huge rocks; they too await the change.
An owl hooted, a kookaburra laughed - then the silence was deafening, as our feet trip tropped upon the faded grasses green as small folks created paths for us to follow.
What thoughts does one inhabit when faced by the mysteries old as the leaves in the trees rustle fanned by the breeze that swells and inflates. They too have long been a ‘bed cooling down awaiting the early light, where once again as the sun will rise full across the river, it claims its right to be supreme, As we walk this early morning, in the distance thunder rolls across the heavens and then the clouds fill letting fall drops of rain that as they intensify shoot their arrows upon the face of the river and dance upon the dusty leaves embracing them and in soft voices whisper ‘It is time to let go for Autumn wears its new coat.’
The signal has been given for a new adventure to begin as leaves allow themselves to gently fall forming coloured carpets beneath the Gum Trees. We stand, two figures and a dog awaiting the rivers cauldron’s to inflate and define the twists into being with torturous rapt the destinies of man that did spin from ages past as they become answerable to their Fate.
We cannot escape Fate as the darkness within is always there but above us the sun smiles indicating a new day and gives one the opportunity to bask in its rays and send to bed the darkness of the night.
FIN
Riverwytche dreaming 22d February 2021
My Blog My latest story is in this Athology.
Ghostly Romance Anthology, Volume Two
Adult
Five short ghost stories with a romantic element and three poems delving into the romance of ghosts. Written by International Independent Authors in the English of where they live.
Authors are: Lynn Mullican, Mara Reitsma, Dan McAteer, Pamela J Silva, C Weave Lane & Kyrena Lynch. As the Highway man , came a Riding – all on a Summer’s Day.
Here is an insert from my story which is Through the Mists of Times.
His hair the colour of an Acorn, touched with threads of grey
And his dancing eyes were blue, story as the Atlantic Sea
And she waited by the Alder tree, a slender form, skin the colour of ivory
Her unbound hair a fox’s tail, and eyes the pale leaves of the Birch,
As she waited for her love.
He steered his dapple grey mare
As he sensed danger ahead, and with a heavy heart
he sidestepped Into the hidden path in the cliff face and was soon lost to sightc
With a heavy heart he turned his mare
With a sack of sated whiting in his bags, to sort out for those in need.
A dangerous trade, a lonely path,
But she was gone, lost to his embrace.
Heather McGill shouted out the words , ”I can’t marry him and I won’t,’ to her mother who stood with a rolling pin in one hand and the other, placed on a piece of pastry she was cutting out. As her mother’s ample mouth and eyes widened in disbelief at her refusal, the tension rose like steam she could feel it oozing out about her and the shame she felt for talking to her mother in such a disrespectful way, was even more upsetting. Her heart beat fast and she felt the pain weighing her down.
Blog for Today -Monday11 November
Here are a few shots of the time period of Beatrix Potter and Thomas Hardy. Now, what would you think if your date rocked up ‘courting in his best shepherd attire? I have lost a long article , Facebook hopefully will get back on it, re the role Nature plays in our lives, and I was saying something like that many today, have lost touch with nature/mother earth where, of course lies the magic. Beatrix Potter in an article was quoted as saying she knew every stone, every tree, post etc and this led me to Thomas Hardy, and the role of the Shepherd, who too in his lifetime, knew his sheep, the cloud formations, the ponds, rivers etc, they were so familiar to him and if he had to leave his post for any reason, he would lose the will to live. I imagine it is the same for farmers too. Well, today we lead a very different life style, but I am listening to the ravens who feed every day on a tin roofed patio, down the back yard, the chattering of one song over and over again of one note by a few pigeons and now a rooster is crowing and cicadas, yes they too are singing. Yes, we have a rooster next door. The point of all this is that in a suburban life style, we often miss the beauty of nature, Apart from the many health benefits of spending more time in natures, and the affect of its colours upon us, it leads to a calmer and quieter existence, it also allows you to tap into spirits of the trees, the rivers, the wetlands, and allows you if you do it often enough to listen, and feel as if you are part of it too, and part of the communication, that exists within it. Enough for one day, and I will make it a Thomas Hardy and Beatrix Potter week.
Weave’s daily webs
Silent is the dawn as the river flows onwards and into the mists of time. Having crossed the Troll Bridge, Lily and I were stamping on the boards, and into the wetlands, where the bed of it graces me with crimson, orange, and yellow reeds, but still the river sings along. The weather is cooler today, and Samhain is upon us. Gold too are the leaves fallen to the ground, amongst the acorns, the pine cones and from the tall white gums, that tower about me. We wander between and around the huge trunks. Some are so white they are also a pale green, cool, smooth to touch beloved of mother nature. Upon some spots of bark exist, or in stripes or none at all but a lone bull ant climbing upwards. As we wander along the river bank amongst the She Oaks, sister to the male Oak, one cannot help but wonder at the nature beauty of life. Here, indeed is the realm of the Faery, and the present of the wandering clouds, never shapeless, but have form, confirm that and as I think this river exists with Enter the Fey, as we entered another realm, and Milena’s Quest, and will again in another book – as does the cloaked figure beyond who waits for me. I bow in sweet surrender.
This is my world
The Passing of time – 20 January
It is the nearly the end of January and in the wetlands alongside the river, the heat has nearly dried up the water in them. Where just a few weeks ago, the Ibises flocked at early morning and early night fall to stride through the muddy waters, heads down, beaks down, finding their food, only a few gather now following the reseeding waters. The would nestle in the dying trees in the middle of the lake at night placing their long legs under them and folding their wings about them. Gone to are the ducks, that had been multiplying during the Spring and spent their days lazily swimming, and resting by the banks during the day. The male strutting around protecting his family,the growing ducklings becoming more daring, investigating the insects, gaining weight and growing. Where are they I wonder, I hope they are safe. The frogs too seem to have gone underground burying in the mud, under the green waving reeds, waiting, waiting for the rains to come again. Lily and I stand upon the small hill and look down at the scene with sadness and gradually make our way across the Troll Bridge, to the woods, and potter amongst the trees, observing the tall snow white gums, that stand naked – their winter bark littering the forest floor and stand and face the wind as we decide if we will wander across to the river. But today, it is hot, and we wander between the avenue of the Pine trees, wondering if the Devas are watching down upon us, and the fairies, oh yes there are fairies down her will show themselves this day but the magpies are too noisy and the mudlarks are nesting – the willy wagtails acting like soldiers, defending too their nests. The heat is rising and Lily is puffing, time to wander home and return at sunset. Life is like this, and we change too, perhaps unknown, but change we do, as the cells reproduce themselves, our attitudes change towards certain issues, and out bodies age – gradually, just like the wetlands – as we become a part of the ever changing cycle of life of birth, growth and rebirth. I quote to from ‘Doing Life,’ by Brian Dibble about the wonderful WA writer Elizabeth Jolley, who said as a preface in Chapter 2, “Perhaps the summers were remarkable because, in their difference, in their contrasting and in their confluence, they made one threshold. (Of Butchers and Bilberry Baskets,’. I particularly liked this lady’s writings, and shared some history with her, as she had come to Perth to live to spend life here, as she put it, as did I, from another State, another way of life, and also in the UK and the continent. But today I come a full circle, as I crowd in upon myself.
Weave’s Threads
riverwytchedreaming 