Lughnasadh

[isolationschild]

Aye! The night was so clear and still. You could feel the apprach of the blood harvest. Death to the plants has begun as winter rolls in with her desolate, depressed attitude to make sure not one creature is absent from her wrath.The goddess smiles brightly on those who appreciate her charm. I suppose wicked encounters are not for those faint of heart or mind... I amaze myself.



a full moon is the beauty of the darkest light