it begins
In the beginning, the dark places of the year. January. Ianuarius. The doorway of sleep and introspect, we find ourselves turned inward. Bade a small step further each day by each few each seconds and minutes of the sun's rays reaching through the winter veil. I can see, the slow coltish, sluggishness, settled in, beginning to shift in the smallest amount to the later shed.
This year will be a glorious time, steeped in hard work and magic. Divination will rule it for the first time in a very long time. From the Oak Grove wind my childhood symbols to their roots. From my sisters, comes now a grand and glittering plan, twelve months spent with the Major Arcana. Walking steps. Fingertips to glide. Upon stones and cards.
Archetypes. Ideas made manifest. Self as Seeker and Teacher.