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In my understanding, Autumnal Equinox marks the unlocking of the Door into Autumn and the beginning of the rise of it’s tide of power. In this season the gate into the Dark Half of the Year creaks slightly, swinging slowly open on ancient hinges ’till Samhain, when the Doors between the Worlds stand wide, and the Dark Half of the Year is upon us.

The Changewinds of Autumn are blowing as well; bearing the faintest chill and rustling with a beckoning voice among the leaves, leaving in their wake a feeling at once of longing, and of anticipation of the Autumn-tide to come.

Thus begins the season when my dreams grow stranger and more potent, when I want nothing more than to fling myself to the sky and ride laughing upon the evening wind, or to wrap myself in the rustling mantle of a bronze-gold wood. The season when Witchblood rises.

To mark Autumnal Equinox, I gave honor to the season itself (rather than any one Deity), and to those Powers who come into their own at this time of year – the Hunter and his entourage, the Hags, the Hidden Ones of the Hills and the Wights of the Land. I offered cider and acorns and oil scented of apples, and the words to a song that speaks to me of Autumn.

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