Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolf-bane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright.
I love this time of the year… moving into it like a wild cloak of wonder; Crones, screams and laughter; cinnamon, chills and the first full moon of Autumn in the wilds of October. I also honor Lynn now… this is her time.
You’ve done terrible things… be strong.
The dark, Halloween and the shadow… here we go again. My best friend, who died five years ago, was my champion of scary and forbidden places. She was a true wild and free soul and lived life by the seat of her pants. Lynn never could break the mold of her youthful lust for life. Even love could not bind her beyond her desire for a type of youthful fulfillment. This time of the year was our time. We ran with the blaspheme of the night with lycanthropy biting at our heels.
My mind now circles with Ouija boards, and horror stories and of the film Suspiria.
She led me to depths… depths I dare not always follow! It is hard to understand that Lynn is gone from me now!
She sometimes stands beyond the darkness. At such altered times I catch her memory…the few breaths between twilight and darkness. I feel a longing pain, a need to run with her by way of the hills of our youth. Ah… but she is free now of this aging of these memories…
Many years I have celebrated the first full moon of Autumn in October with this song…until I die…!!