The woods, the trees, dropped branches, dropped themselves during the storm and I gathered again. Old branches.
Though young growth is best I am grateful for these and use some for medicine, some for food, some for scent, some for dye. And the house now smells as if it has been visited by different wise sisters. =) Wood essence, wood joy, wood life, wood force, wood strength. And in my mind now, I can hear the trees’ laughter and hear them stretch their limbs, shake off, bend, turn, enjoy wind while they let go of rigidity, old wounds, hoary rigor and dusty layers and reaffirm their place, dug their toes deeper in the earth and find a new fresh grip with their roots.
It is said that a pine grew near the well in the Nemeton of Barenton and when Merlin climbed that tree he received all his wisdom and talents there, which is nice to remember next time you go to France and find yourself high up in a pine tree.
The granddaughters. 