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I ran across a couple of photos that I took of an alter I made a long time ago. This was when I was much younger, and Didn’t Really Know What I Was Doing. I had read some books on witchcraft and paganism, of course, but I knew for certain that there was Something there, in the angle of the autumn sun, in the scent of sun-dappled green, in the flight of birds across a ringing sky; and the majesty of that Something made my heart clench in my chest with longing.

I used and maintained my secret woodland altar for several years. I have long since moved away from this area, and before I moved I carried the heavy stones of this altar back to the stream from whence they came.

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