You may be asking yourself, what exactly is ‘wood wytchery’? First of all, it is not a typo that I have spelled wytchery with a ‘y’ Vs. an ‘i”, I have done this purposely .It is my trademark, what I am all about ~ an eclectic combination of green witchery/herbalism, a mix of druid and shaman and a follower of the Goddess in her various guises. The woods wytch is a strong believer in elementals and faeries and works closely with them.
More than just the garden variety wytch ~she is deeply rooted in nature and while she may have a typical garden, her world extends far beyond the scope of the backyard. The woods are as familiar to her as the smile lines around her very eyes. In all seasons the woods wytch is in tune with Mother Nature. I have a deep respect for the earth and all life upon her. These very beliefs have shaped me in to the wytch that I am today.
I have always known that I was different, from a very young age. Yes, I was one of those kids in school that got teased about their looks. I was gawky and had a big nose. And while most kids would have lived for the day when they would outgrow their looks, I learned to accept my differences. Early on I learned that I did not want to be a carbon copy of everyone around me. And I can honestly say, I am a far cry from being like any one else!
My love for nature began at a very early age. While most kids were out playing riding their bikes or playing dolls, I was playing florist, potting up flowers or gathering prickly chestnut burrs, picking fallen berries to eat from the huge tree in the side yard or marveling over the wooly feel of a pussy willow catkin. On the way home from school in the spring, I would quickly dart across a front lawn to pick some daffodils or crocus for my mom, or find the hidden litter of wild kittens under the house (and get bit more than once). Like most kids growing up in the 1960’s I could not wait for the trip to Woolworths for a green turtle (before they were banned) or a few pet mice.
When we would make trips to the country to visit with my Aunt "Minnie", I could hardly wait to leave the city to spend the weekend in the country where I could sleep with the windows open inhaling deeply the scent of the forest pines. My ears were keen for the different sounds. The din of the city far behind me, I could now hear the whippoorwills and the tree frogs. Long walks with my beloved Aunt to the man-made cedar lake were a treat to the senses; the gray sugar sand was cool beneath my feet and felt like silk when I sifted it through my fingers, the scented brown cedar water a far cry from the only water I had known in the city, flooded city streets after a heavy rainfall. And while I tried to take part of the country home with me (peanut butter jars became the temporary homes for tiny baby toads) it never seemed to work for long. Although the lizard, Dino, lasted a bit longer than the frogs he left too. I remember my brother and I burying him in a Luden’s cough drop box (he may have been hibernating, but we never figured that out). The seeds of wytchery had already sprouted but I would have to wait until I was a teenager to finally leave the city behind and move to my beloved woods.
More than just the garden variety wytch ~she is deeply rooted in nature and while she may have a typical garden, her world extends far beyond the scope of the backyard. The woods are as familiar to her as the smile lines around her very eyes. In all seasons the woods wytch is in tune with Mother Nature. I have a deep respect for the earth and all life upon her. These very beliefs have shaped me in to the wytch that I am today.
When we would make trips to the country to visit with my Aunt "Minnie", I could hardly wait to leave the city to spend the weekend in the country where I could sleep with the windows open inhaling deeply the scent of the forest pines. My ears were keen for the different sounds. The din of the city far behind me, I could now hear the whippoorwills and the tree frogs. Long walks with my beloved Aunt to the man-made cedar lake were a treat to the senses; the gray sugar sand was cool beneath my feet and felt like silk when I sifted it through my fingers, the scented brown cedar water a far cry from the only water I had known in the city, flooded city streets after a heavy rainfall. And while I tried to take part of the country home with me (peanut butter jars became the temporary homes for tiny baby toads) it never seemed to work for long. Although the lizard, Dino, lasted a bit longer than the frogs he left too. I remember my brother and I burying him in a Luden’s cough drop box (he may have been hibernating, but we never figured that out). The seeds of wytchery had already sprouted but I would have to wait until I was a teenager to finally leave the city behind and move to my beloved woods.
Blessed be,
Priestess Absinthe Aradia
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