Review: The Crooked Path: An Introduction to Traditional Witchcraft by Kelden

I first started exploring Traditional Witchcraft about ten years ago, in my late teens. At that time, it was very hard to find any information on specific practices and rites; not at all helped by the snobby attitude of the moderators of certain Internet forums, who wouldn't let ex-Wiccans such as myself join their special club! Even finding directions to make a Compass-Round was a real chore.

Back then, the only information that was readily available came from authors such as Robin Artisson (known for causing havoc on said Internet forums) and the late, great Peter Paddon. But books and magazines on the subject were not easy for me to obtain as a teen; I got Nigel Jackson's Call of the Horned Piper cheap second-hand, saved up for some of Robin and Peter's early books, and would trawl the internet for hours gleaning bits and bobs of information on the Craft, whether it be from folklore or modern practitioners.

While authors such as Gemma Gary (who provides the foreword for Kelden's book) have become more prominent and added some fantastic texts to the field, it seemed that we were lacking a single, preliminary resource for anyone curious about Traditional Witchcraft – something that offered a general overview of its key concepts, the most famous traditions and general instructions for performing rites such as the Compass-Round and Treading the Mill without being beholden to a specific tradition.

Enter The Crooked Path: An Introduction to Traditional Witchcraft.

This book is both a succinct, meticulously researched overview of the practice of Traditional Witchcraft and a workbook which gently guides the reader to practice key techniques and rituals which gradually increase in complexity.

We start with a summary of the movement's history (which happily acknowledges its symbiotic link with Wicca) and a brief explanation of the more famous traditions, such as the Clan of Tubal Cain and the 1734 Tradition. The author takes the time to highlight key figures in the development of the modern Craft, such as Doreen Valiente and Cecil Williamson. Kelden ultimately encourages the reader to forge their own path, but an extensive bibliography and footnotes ensure that anyone curious about a particular tradition or person can research further.

The remainder of the book is split into themed sections around key concepts of the Craft; Working with Magic (tools and spellcraft), Working With The Otherworld (ancestors, fetches and hedge-riding), and Working With The Natural Landscape (engaging with local spirits and using the natural items around you). This nicely encourages the reader to solidify their basic knowledge before developing their own personal Craft that is attuned to their bioregion and local spirits.

The exercises are clearly marked with headings and are often as simple as taking a pen and paper and taking some time to process what you have just read. But the reader does not have to wait long before they are making a besom, meeting their fetch and faring forth. Now you may think that including hedge-riding in a beginner's book is a bit much; but this is an essential component of Traditional Witchcraft, and Kelden takes great care to include plenty of safety advice and build up the reader's confidence and skill through the preceding exercises. The author has worked hard to recreate the experience of having a skilled mentor guiding you along the path, and I think they have done very well indeed.

Of particular interest are the 'From the Spirits of Lore' headings which enhance understanding of tools and key concepts via examples from historical folklore and mythology. In fact there is a whole chapter dedicated to adapting folkloric material for use in modern spellwork; something that is essential to our practice, yet The Crooked Path is the first book in which I have seen guidance on adapting this material yourself.

Also of note are the extracts from 'The Black Book' – recipes and workings that presumably come from the author's own grimoire. These will be useful for witches at any level. The ingredients are all easy to source and should be easy to substitute, especially after completing the exercises on communing with plant spirits.

Kelden does not shy away from baneful magic and hallucinogenics; there is no pressure to explore either of these yourself, but plenty of safety advice is provided for those who are curious (indeed one of the earliest exercises asks the reader to consider their own moral compass after a discussion on ethics). The author even provides a recipe for a non-toxic flying ointment that is safe for beginners to use.

Overall this book is a brilliant springboard for newcomers, and an inexpensive way to find out if Traditional Witchcraft is for you. Any eclectic witch will find something of use in here, and even the most experienced witches may fill some gaps in their knowledge (I know I did!).

I recommend working through the book from start to finish as the author does, though the recipes and workings can certainly be revisited time and time again.

I wish it had been available ten years ago!

The Crooked Path: An Introduction to Traditional Witchcraft is published by Llewellyn and is consequently available from all good bookshops. RRP £14.99.

Hretha and Eostre

Dear readers, I hope that you are all staying safe in these strange and difficult times. This blog post comes to you a little later than planned seeing as we are past Hexennacht/Beltane, but I would still like to share two spring goddesses who were extremely important to the Anglo-Saxons and wider Germanic peoples – the mysterious Hretha and the radiant Eostre, known nowadays as Ostara.

Both goddesses are solely attested by Bede in his 8^th-century manuscript De Temporum Ratione (The Reckoning of Time), in a chapter describing the English months. Bede states that 'Rhedmonath', now known as March, 'is named for [the Anglo-Saxon's] goddess Rheda, to whom they sacrificed at this time'. Rheda is reconstructed in Old English as Hrēþe, now Hretha in modern English.

But what was Hretha the goddess of? Bede characteristically offers no further information on her. In the absence of any other historical accounts of this goddess, scholars have turned to etymology of her name to gain some clues about her nature. Rudolf Simek, following Jacob Grimm's theories on Hretha and her possible names in other Germanic cultures, proposes that Hretha 'could have a similar meaning to the eponymous Roman god of the same month, Mars' (Dictionary of Northern Mythology, 2007, p. 159).

'Valkyrie Maiden' by Howard David Johnson (2013)

Reinforcing this warlike association, Simek considers Hretha to translate as 'the famous' or 'the victorious'. In Looking For The Lost Gods of England, Kathleen Herbert notes that the common Old English noun hreð means 'glory, fame, triumph, honour', while the adjective hrethe means ‘fierce, cruel, rough, words that can describe the cold March winds as well as warriors'. Herbert asserts that Hretha was a waelcyrie (valkyrie), traditionally warriors and choosers of the slain (1994, p. 20). 

Given that March is the time of the Spring Equinox and blessed with notoriously unpredictable weather, it's reasonable to assume that Hretha was a warrior goddess who battled the forces of winter in order to ensure the arrival of spring. This would explain the need for blōt (sacrifices) to her in this month. Indeed this is the way in which many modern Heathens view Hretha, including myself.

Other Heathens view her as a patron of survivors or a more general goddess of war. Still others see her as more of a goddess of the hearth, one who patiently awaits the return of spring. These variations may well reflect different aspects of the goddess, or even local variants as we see with Thor, Odin and Tyr in the historical record.

I have a particular connection to Hretha, being born in her month – having to fight for life as an emergency Caesarean, no less!

Hrethmonath directly precedes Eostremonath, the titular month of a much more familiar goddess. Bede offers slightly more information on the latter:

'Eosturmonath has a name which is now translated "Paschal month", and which was once called after a goddess of theirs named Eostre, in whose honour feasts were celebrated in that month. Now they designate that Paschal season by her name, calling the joys of the new rite by the time-honoured name of the old observance.' In other words, the goddess was so important/prevalent that the people retained her name when Christian traditions replaced their traditional practices (indeed Eostre is thought to be where the term 'Easter' originates).

Grimm's interpretation of these goddesses in Teutonic Mythology (1882) is particularly interesting. Variants of the term Easter exist in all Germanic languages, yet Greek and Latin adopted the term Paschal for their Easter celebrations. Clearly the term Easter (or its root) had enough cultural significance to be retained. Grimm proposed the reconstructed Old High German word Ostara for the goddess, which has subsequently become the modern term for both her and the festival.

'Ostara' by Johannes Gehrts (1901)

Grimm theorised that the traditional 'Easter-games […] which the church itself had to tolerate' were no less than surviving celebrations of the goddess:

'Bonfires were lighted at Easter and according to popular belief of long standing, the moment the sun rises on Easter Sunday morning, he gives three joyful leaps, he dances for joy ... Water drawn on the Easter morning is, like that at Christmas, holy and healing ... here also heathen notions seems to have grafted themselves on great Christian festivals. Maidens clothed in white, who at Easter, at the season of returning spring, show themselves in clefts of the rock and on mountains, are suggestive of the ancient goddess' (Grimm p. 291).

As modern Pagan beliefs have grown, the festival of Eostre/Ostara has become associated with the more obviously pagan (or at least, not very Christian) elements of Easter – e.g. rabbits, chicks, eggs, and fertility (!). Grimm identified Eostre/Ostara as ' the divinity of the radiant dawn'; subsequent studies in resconstructional linguistics trace the name back to a Proto-Indo-European root, Hausōs, the archetypal goddess of the dawn who dances and rides a chariot or steed. In 1958, the name matronae Austriahenae was found in votive inscriptions discovered in Germany - possibly a regional variant of Eostre.

While historical records on both of these goddess are scarce, there are many tantalising snippets of information that we can use to honour them today (alongside working directly with them, of course). Eostre/Ostara in particular is still very much alive in our collective consciousness. Both she and Hretha symbolise triumph, the arrival of spring, the return of sunny days, and looking ahead to the hazy days of summer - energy that we could all draw from right now.

Stay safe!

Sources & Further Reading:

Bede, De Temporum Ratione

Grimm, Jacob, (1882) Teutonic Mythology

Herbert, Kathleen, (1994) Looking For The Lost Gods of England

Mallory, James P.; Adams, Douglas Q. (2006), The Oxford Introduction to Proto-Indo-European and the Proto-Indo-European World

Shaw, Philip A. (2011). Pagan Goddesses in the Early Germanic World: Eostre, Hreda and the Cult of Matrons
Simek, Rudolf , (2007) Dictionary of Northern MythologyWest, Martin Litchfield, (2007) Indo-European Poetry and Myth

https://earthandstarryheaven.com/2018/05/17/hretha/

Reiterates many of the points I covered here and includes some accounts from modern Heathens on their experiences with Hretha.

The Ethical Cost of Crystals

Crystal healing has experienced a huge boom in recent years, with various celebrity endorsements - who can forget Gwyneth Paltrow's infamous jade eggs??

Regardless of how you may feel about their more mainstream proponents, many people use crystals; they have become a major component of the $4.2 trillion dollar wellness industry.

Image from Pixabay.

But the soothing associations of crystals mask an uncomfortable truth – the global craze for semi-precious stones and minerals drives unethical working practices in impoverished countries such as Brazil, Madagascar and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The crystal mining industry is unregulated, and mining often occurs in countries with 'relaxed' or virtually nonexistent labour laws – meaning that, as with most other capitalist enterprises, the workers can be paid a pittance while the suppliers rake in profits. People on meagre wages work long hours in the cramped, dusty mines, often without proper safety apparatus and at risk of death from landslides. Many of these workers are children.

Most of the time crystals are sourced as a byproduct of gold, copper or granite mining – this causes some crystal suppliers to claim that crystals don't do much damage, as the main product from the mines is the real culprit. They point to the mineral components used in cellphones as more harmful. However, this makes little difference to those working in the mines in terrible conditions.

Of course, there are many things we do that have an unsavoury impact on the planet – driving our cars, using plastics, disposable sanitary products, etc. But there's something particularly jarring about buying 'healing objects' that come to us through human rights violations and further damage to the planet. If you believe that crystals take on the energies around them, it's no wonder that people have to cleanse new purchases!

Compounding the problem is the fact that many shops, especially smaller businesses, are completely unaware of where their crystals come from. They tend to buy through wholesalers, and not many retailers even think to ask about sourcing or the conditions of the mines.

So, what can we do?

First of all, there are some UK-based crystal shops that claim to source ethical products; two I have used are The Psychic Tree and Little Gems Rock Shop. Both claim to thoroughly research their supply chain and only deal with mines, providers and suppliers who enact good working standards and avoid child labour.

You can also purchase 'home-grown' crystals from UK mines; these are rare and tend to fetch a much higher price than crystals from other countries. Look up the price of amethyst from Devon or Cornwall and you'll see what I mean....

In traditional witchcraft and other folk practices, many practitioners prefer to use found rocks, fossils and shells rather than crystals, as these found objects are imbued with the spirit of the land. I must admit, as much as I love to collect sticks, stones and bones, I do love crystals, especially amethyst. But I will now focus more on utilising my found treasures, unless I receive crystals that gifted or ethically sourced.

Indeed some crystals can be sourced in the wild - quartz, jasper and agate are fairly common on beaches, alongside a number of fossil types. They may not be as conventionally pretty as a polished and carved specimen, but they have their own special power that is unsullied by mining, processing and chemical cleaning. Sea-glass is a particularly attractive alternative, and there are plenty of interesting rocks and stones to be found in woods, caves and other natural areas.

As you can see, there are plenty of options if you wish to avoid the abuses of the wider crystal trade. That said, please don't feel ashamed if you do have some crystals with unclear or murky origins! I have some from my early witchy days that probably (read: almost definitely) came from unethical practices. There's a distinct lack of education and awareness on this matter, and I hope this blog post will help people make more informed, ethical decisions when using and purchasing crystals.

Sources and further reading:

https://newrepublic.com/article/148190/know-healing-crystals-come-from

https://mine.nridigital.com/mine_nov19/the_cost_of_crystal_mining

https://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/02/world/searching-for-burmese-jade-and-finding-misery.html

https://www.countrylife.co.uk/articles/identify-pebbles-find-britains-beaches-183610

https://www.bgs.ac.uk/discoveringGeology/geologyOfBritain/holidayguides/pebbles.htm

http://www.beachstuff.uk/sea_birds_copy.html

https://www.beachstonesinspired.com/beach-stones-identification.html

Review: Cecil Williamson's Book of Witchcraft by Steve Patterson

I had the good fortune to happen upon this book in Treadwell's during a trip to London, a fantastic occult bookshop that has the feel of an 18th-century literary salon.

Let me start by saying that I am a huge fan of the Museum of Witchcraft (although I have never been, it is on my bucket list!). I was always impressed by Cecil Williamson's dedication to his project, having faced many obstacles and moving around the country several times before settling in relative peace in Boscastle, Cornwall. I was excited to examine the magical workings of one who is so often overlooked by the witchcraft community (to the point that some mistakenly believe that it was Gerald Gardner who opened the Museum!).

But this is much more than a simple reproduction of Williamson's own grimoire; the text is comprised of two halves. Book One is the transcribed and heavily annotated manuscript of the small notebook discovered after Williamson handed the Museum over to Graham King in 1996. In Book Two Patterson presents a meticulously researched account of Williamson's life, his relationships with other notable 19th Century occultists (including his tempestuous relationship with Gerald Gardner) and an overview of the Museum's original displays and artefacts, all accompanied by pages of black-and-white photographs and charming illustrations from Museum posters. There are also a number of appendices comprising facsimiles of Williamson's various writings on witchcraft. It's a truly impressive work, given how private and mysterious the man behind the Museum was in life.

Despite his reserved nature, Williamson was well-connected with household names such as Margaret Murray, Dion Fortune, Doreen Valiente, Austin Osman Spare, and Aleister Crowley, many of whom offered items for the Museum. Patterson's detailed consideration of these connections, drawing from Williamson's letters and interviews, offers a new take on the well-known stories of this period - coloured by Williamson's wry observations of the lavish (and often sexually explicit) occult practices of the middle classes as opposed to the 'wayside witchcraft' that was so dear to him. Patterson has also managed to glean some fascinating evidence of Williamson's time at MI6 from the late 1930s to the end of WWII, which involved research on practitioners of the occult and involvement in the famous 'Operation Mistletoe', a magical ritual intended to prevent a Nazi invasion of Britain. All of this firmly situates Williamson as a central figure in the British witchcraft revival, and the Museum of Witchcraft as his life's work and an invaluable resource for modern witches.

The stories of Williamson and Gerald Gardner are a definite highlight and often had me chuckling – though some feathers may be ruffled by Williamson's characterisation of Gardner as 'an awful scaredy pie' who was often more motivated by money than magic! Patterson presents their squabbles delicately, with no malice towards Gardner, although he does outline the differences between Gardner's and Williamson's practices – Williamson being more devoted to spirit work and what is now termed 'Traditional Witchcraft', and the latter's many criticisms of Wicca. Patterson's assessment of the influence of Margaret Murray's work on Egypt on the pair, and their different interpretations of it, are particularly interesting.

A key aim of the book is to challenge claims of Williamson being 'unreliable' by a number of historians and occultists, including Ronald Hutton; Patterson does this by supporting both his own and many of Cecil's opinions with a range of sources and historical context. While Patterson does make great use of the extensive collections at the Museum, it's clear that he also spent a great deal of time painstakingly sourcing and researching whatever he could about Williamson's life and work, including rare interviews and television appearances – even corroborating Williamson's MI6 stories against official records.

My only minor gripe is that there are a few typos – unless, that is, Crowley did try to sell his Baphomet ring in a 'porn shop', which I could believe! Of course this is understandable with a smaller publisher like Troy Books and may well have been rectified in later editions - several of their titles have just been re-released, including this one.

Overall this is a comprehensive overview of the life and work of Cecil Williamson, which gives him long-overdue recognition as a leading figure in the witchcraft revival; his views and writings on traditional witchcraft will be of particular interest to adherents of that path. But I would recommend this book for all witches, as both a fascinating account of the man behind the celebrated Museum of Witchcraft, the evolution of the Museum over the decades, and an essential addition to academic considerations of the history of British witchcraft.

Cecil Williamson's Book of Witchcraft: A Grimoire of the Museum of Witchcraft is available from Troy Books. Originally published in 2013; the edition I reviewed is the 2014 paperback.

My Yuletide

I know, I know, it's been a tough couple of weeks. It's hard to feel festive given the state of UK politics and the wider world. And I will be doing a blog about witchy activism soon!

But in the meantime, I thought it would be nice to share my own Yuletide traditions to help you feel more in tune with the season.

If you do want to do something positive right now, you can buy a Christmas dinner for a homeless person in Newcastle for just £4.99: https://neoffers.co.uk/products/north-east-homeless-christmas-newcastle

This year's Yule altar.

My Yuletide is based on Germanic paganism – a mix of Anglo-Saxon and Norse traditions - but has to be worked around agnostic loved ones. This is a lot easier than if they were fully Christian, but still requires some scheduling and compromise!

First, a little bit about Germanic Yule traditions. The Anglo-Saxons named December Ærra Geola (Before Yule) and January Æfterra Geola (After Yule). It's thought that all Germanic Yule celebrations centred around 'midwinter'- commonly accepted as the winter solstice, although there is some debate on this. Many Germanic pagans celebrate Yule for 12 days from the evening of the solstice – supposedly the root of the Twelve Days of Christmas. I've ended up adopting this method, simply as it makes sense and makes the solstice the focus.

In wider Germanic tradition, it is said that the Wild Hunt roam the skies during Yuletide, with Odin as their leader. Odin has many names including jólfaðr (Old Norse for 'Yule father') and jólnir ('the Yule one'). This has lead to speculation that the idea of Father Christmas came from Odin in his Yule aspect. 

Odin is one of my patron deities (the other being Freya), so I'll be honouring him a lot at Yuletide through offerings and meditation.

Asgårdsreien (The Wild Hunt of Odin), (1872) by Peter Nicolai Arbo

The Christmas tree and Yule log are also thought to have their roots in Germanic traditions. The Germanic peoples worshipped trees (as did many other ancient cultures), and the act of bringing evergreen boughs into the home may have stemmed from their practices. The traditional Yule log was an actual log which was specially selected and burnt on the hearth. Nowadays we're much more likely to see the chocolate variant, which I happen to be a big fan of!

Yule is primarily a time of time of feasting and celebrating, featuring sacred animals such as the Yule Goat and Yule Boar. A giant straw Yule Goat is erected in the Swedish city of Gävle every year (although it usually gets burned down soon after). It's commonly thought that the Yule Goat is linked to Thor, whose chariot is pulled by two goats; however, the symbolism of the goat can be traced back to common Indo-European beliefs. Some antique Christmas cards actually feature Father Christmas riding a goat – perhaps a nod to the Wild Hunt? 

'Old Christmas riding a Goat' by Robert Seymour, 1836.
Note the wassail bowl.

In Nordic tradition, the last bundle of straw from the harvest was saved for Yuletide celebrations and was named the Yule Goat – this is why modern Yule Goat ornaments are made from straw bound with red ribbon. They're a common sight on Nordic Christmas trees, and can sometimes be found here in the UK. 

A traditional Nordic Yule Goat ornament.

The boar is linked to both Freya and Freyr, deities of fertility and virility – but its symbolism is just as ancient. Today we most commonly see the Yule Boar in the traditional Christmas ham. 

Little is known about specific Anglo-Saxon Yule practices, but Bede states that they celebrated Mōdraniht, or 'Night of the Mothers', on what we now know as Christmas Eve. This was a celebration of female ancestral spirits – the dísir in Old Norse or Matronae to the Romans. On this night, I honour female deities, ancestors and departed relatives (including my own mother). I usually light a candle in the evening, make an offering, and meditate quietly on all the feminine influences that have helped me in my life.

It can be hard to fit my Mōdraniht celebration around Christmas Eve plans with my partner/Dad, so I will sometimes do it earlier that day. But even after being a pagan and a witch for over ten years now, there's still something magical and liminal about Christmas Eve – that feeling of shifting from a regular day into a special event as night draws in. I'm glad I can retain that in Mōdraniht. Indeed that's why I choose not to celebrate it the night before the solstice, as many heathens do.

After my witchy business, I usually enjoy a sedate Mōdraniht/Christmas Eve of curling up in my pyjamas with my cats, a mug of hot chocolate and the Nightmare Before Christmas special edition DVD. :)

I also like to engage with a traditional English custom called 'wassailing' as part of my own Yule traditions; the word 'wassail' comes from the Anglo-Saxon greeting Wæs þu hæl, meaning "be thou hale” or “be in good health”. The custom involves a drink, also known as 'wassail', a warm spiced cider. In the days before carolling, groups of people would go door-to-door, singing and offering a drink from the wassail bowl in exchange for gifts. In the Middle Ages, wassailing was a form of charitable giving between feudal lords and their peasants, distinct from begging. But this tradition had a dark side; if the homeowner refused to give gifts, the wassailers could curse them or wreck their home. We can see a survival of this is the traditional English carol 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' ('we won't go until we've got some, so bring some out here'...).

Another form of wassailing took place in areas that were known for cider production (i.e. Devon and Somerset). In order to ensure a good harvest, a procession led by a Wassail King and Queen would venture into the orchard. A piece of bread was soaked in the wassail drink, then the Queen was lifted into the boughs to place the toast among the branches as an offering. The procession would sing to awaken the trees and scare away evil spirits. This practice still survives in Southern England! 

A modern wassail, organised by the Thatchers cider company.

I tend to perform a personal wassailing by making my own wassail – which is really very easy, you just gently heat some good cider with some sliced oranges and a pack of mulled wine spices for about an hour – and offering this as a libation to the trees in my garden. I usually do this on the last day of Yuletide (so the twelfth day after the solstice); traditionally wassailing was done on the Christian Twelfth Night.

This solstice I plan to go to the beach and greet the dawn, which I don't often get a chance to do. It's usually fairly easy for me to take some time for myself on this day, as everyone else isn't doing much until the 24th and 25th! However I do also attend a celebration with a local pagan group around that date; it's very affirming to meet up with fellow Pagans for such an event, especially when those immediately around you aren't especially religious. It also absolves my guilt somewhat if I do end up being busy on the actual day...

On Christmas Day I tend to give a silent thanks in the morning to the gods and ancestors, then spend the day celebrating and gift-giving with family. Feasting and drinking together is a very Germanic thing to do after all! As mentioned, I've usually done all my witchy celebrating on or around the solstice anyway, though I'm always thankful of my blessings while enjoying the festive period. If I get the chance I will put a mead offering on my altar.

When I'm not busy socialising (!) I find these dark days to be a good time for resting and turning inward (especially when stuffed full of food). I used to be saddled with uni work all Christmas and now finally have a job with sensible holidays, so I make the most of the downtime! I find that my body naturally slows down in winter anyway, though I still love to go for walks in the snow. Sadly we don't get much of it here on the coast. I also tend to make gingerbread, handmade decorations and wintery artworks as I enjoy my time off work.

Most of all, for me Yule is a time to be thankful of the blessings which have brought us through the dark nights; a time to cherish our loved ones and take stock of what we desire in the New Year as the light returns. It's been a hard year for many of us, and I personally will be using this Yuletide as a reminder of what really matters while being mindful of the challenges the coming year brings.

I hope that this post has been informative and that you all have a blessed Yule, full of light and happiness. See you in 2020!

Hello and Welcome!

Samhain greetings, and welcome to the blog!

I am a traditional witch from Northumberland, England, a place with beautiful landscapes steeped in history, myth and folklore. Let me start by introducing myself, my path, and why I created this blog.

Hadrian's Wall, Northumberland.

The beauty and primacy of Northumberland's natural spaces made me feel a deep love for nature from a young age. I have always respected and adored our Earth.

Eventually, I happened upon Neopaganism and then Wicca as a teenager – finally, other people who felt the same way as me about nature!  

This path brought me great joy and comfort for many years, but I started to wonder what witchcraft was like before the 1950s revival. My research led me to traditional witchcraft, which is often no less of a reconstruction than Gardner's vision, but roots itself firmly in folklore and historical accounts of witchcraft. Traditional craft also refuses to shy away from darkness and the more unsavoury aspects of witchcraft – the 'love and light' attitude of Wicca served me well for a time, but ultimately I found it to be too dogmatic for my liking. I also love traditional witchcraft's deep and often dark connection to the land – to soil, blood and bones.

(Disclaimer: I have no hatred towards Wicca. Indeed I find the pervasive hatred of Wicca in online tradcraft communities very tiresome, and I have many friends who are Wiccan! My own journey simply led me elsewhere, to something that better suited my personal interests.)

My path has become fairly eclectic over the years; inspired by practitioners such as Gemma Gary, Cecil Williamson, Nigel Jackson, etc., but I am simultaneously drawn to Germanic paganism and so work with the Norse pantheon (sometimes in their Anglo-Saxon aspects – I am from Northumbria after all!). I do adopt some aspects of Heathenry into my path – certain festivals and rites such as the modern blót – but within a 'witchy' framework. My patron deities are Freya and Odin, and I like to utlise galdr, seiðr and other historical forms of Germanic spellcraft in addition to British folk charms throughout history. All will become clearer as I write more about it!

My current altar setup.

So, to the purpose of the blog. Though I am always reading witchy books, blogs and articles, my actual practice dipped quite spectacularly over the past few years owing to chronic depression and a number of difficult life events. As I slowly crawl back to myself, I am gaining the strength to perform magic once again. I did write a witchy blog a very long time ago (when my path was a little different) which ended up abandoned for the above reasons. I have a sorely neglected Tumblr but always felt the urge to turn it into a dedicated blog. As I rediscover this part of my life, I felt it would be helpful to regain confidence in my path by explaining it to others; furthermore, this will help me to figure out the current shape of my path and how it is evolving with the knowledge I have gained while 'dormant'.

I also have a fair bit of knowledge about Anglo-Saxon paganism, Northumbrian folklore, and various bits of research on witchcraft traditions that others may find helpful. I did notice that while there is lots of writing on Cornish and Devonshire witchcraft and various American traditions, there is woefully little information on the history of Northumbrian witchcraft, and consequently no modern tradition one can refer to – perhaps this blog will help my fellow Northumbrian witches who may be feeling a bit isolated and lost!

Other topics this blog will cover include book reviews, recipes, some spells and workings of my own creation, divination, details of how I celebrate festivals and writings on my own relationship with deity, spirits and the local landscape. Perhaps even interviews and guest posts if people are interested! So there should be something to please just about anyone with an interest in witchcraft. Updates are sporadic as of now (I work full-time and have a lot of creative hobbies beside witchcraft!), but I will hopefully get into a regular schedule as time goes on.

I hope that you will choose to join me on this journey. If you have any interesting tidbits of Northumbrian folklore or history that you would like to share, or topics you would like to see covered, please do let me know in the comments! I love to research and discover new things.

Have a wonderfully spooky Samhain and keep an eye out for my next post!