I describe one of my favorite runes, Othala, as being all the things that come up when one thinks of their home – it is a rune embodying the gifts of the ancestors, the immovable wealth that is our land, our inheritance, our history, and our bloodlines. 472 more words


Down on the Farm by Carol P. Christ

In the past week I visited Cherry Ridge, Honesdale, Wayne, Pennsylvania in the Pokonos, where I was welcomed by my third cousin Marcia Perry Gager whose family never left the place where our ancestors settled.  1,233 more words


Mother Demdike, Ancestor of My Heart, Part 3 by Mary Sharratt

Continued from Part 1 and Part 2 When Bess was in her fifties, walking past the quarry at sunset—called daylight gate in her dialect—a beautiful young man emerged from the stone pit, his hair golden and shining, his coat half black, half brown. 1,610 more words


Mother Demdike, Ancestor of My Heart, Part 1 by Mary Sharratt

Pendle Hill, seen from the back of my house, in May.

The Soul of Gaia is the numinous earth beneath my feet, her soil cradling the bones and the stories of the ancestors who have died into the land and become part of the ever-living spirit of the place. 1,345 more words


Samhain Ancestor Altar

I keep an ancestor altar all year. It normally resides in my office and looks like this:

Every day, I light a candle, light incense, and speak to my Beloved Dead. 142 more words



by Amoret BriarRose

The Ancestors call.
I pour the water, light the candles,
sing the songs and suddenly
legions are behind me, washing me forward… 11 more words


Ancestor Stories: Grandpa Clarence

Today is the anniversary of my grandfather’s death. Clarence Schirmer was a big man, a police officer, and a lover of music who played many instruments by ear. 56 more words