Let each season touch you, inhabit you.
Let the true meaning of each moment match the story that your bones remember to be true.
Each season brings a personal gift, medicine and growth.
Wisdom and insight.
Let them kiss your heart and mind with their colours, their glory, their deaths and their births.
Let them bring you understanding of what we need as human animals on this journey of life, and start to see the mirror in the land you look upon.
Right now the invitation on the land I’m in, is to shed, to start the descent into the inner realms and to find the medicine held there.
To conserve energy, to bring in the harvest and get ready to rest and dream in the arms of winter.
Nature whispers the stories our bodies are aching to remember and reclaim, let yourself listen.
• Words by Brigit Anna McNeill •
Tree Weaver 