Spirit Stories: In Your Own Words
The morning was silent and still. Icy dew hung from the yarrow flowers , and goats muttered in the barn. The woman held a basket full of bundles of dried herbs. There were also orange candles with the scent of spiced pumpkins and black sticks of heavily perfumed myrrh insence. Pieces of parchment contained drawn symbols and words. Some of the symbols were of runes and others from an old yellowed book with brittle pages that the woman had for ages. The words were from the deepest parts of her psyche and her mind , channeled through her from her love of nature.She hummed a tune and smiled as she bent down to pet her skinny little black cat.
They drifted through the flowers and shrubs to the herb garden. She sat on an old tree stump beside the stone fire pit and put her basket on the cool , dirt ground. The little black cat rubbed up against the basket , looked at the woman, and meowed in a high-pitched yowl. They had a communion of their own.
The woman lowered the bundles of herbs into the pit and lit them on fire. A slight wind came up and gave life to the fire. The woman then lit the candles and incense and placed them around the garden. The cat sat waiting on the stump , watching her every move.
Herbs burning down , the woman tossed in her parchment and as it burned she hummed an enchanting tune, stroking the cat that now sat in her lap. They both gazed at the smoldering fire and seemed content at what they had done. The sun started to rise over the tops of the ridge where tall cedars grew, and the morning birds began to sing. She smiled and took a deep breath. Nature had bestowed another beautiful day , full of greenery and life and the songs of the animals.