To the ancient ones, Lughnasadh and the standing August grain was a living, breathing collective skin, a vegetative vessel holding a conscious, primal entity: the Grain Spirit. Its harvest was never approached as a cheerful summer festival, but as a cold, terrifyingly necessary execution. To take the crop was to commit an act of sacred…
I know exactly why you’re here. You didn’t click on this because you want a cute, fluffy article about finding your inner strength from a glossy oracle card. You’re here because you keep seeing a fox, in the yard, on your drive home, or locking eyes with you at the edge of the woods in…