Last night, in the darkest of early morning hours, I heard the call of a distant train. We all know what that sounds like. It’s unmistakable, like the voice of somebody you once knew. I heard it just as clear and plain as I did when I was a child, when we lived across the … Continue reading That Old Granny Magic
This is a sacred place, you know. Oh, yes. You know as well as I do. I think on Granny’s old house, the one we all spent the whole of our youths in, the one that was haunted by familiar spirits. Ghosts, indeed. Some will call us crazy or ignore us altogether. But we know … Continue reading Days of the Dog Star
Oh, good Lord, the chill has arrived. As much as Fall in the mountains inspires us with its palette of gold and firelit scarlet and melancholy reverie, that chill is not a welcome visitor. No, not at all, not for us summer folk. That chill stays too long and gets more comfortable the longer it … Continue reading This Ain’t Witchcraft. It’s Wildcraft.
Now I want you little sisters to remember this one thing if you don’t recollect another thing: dying ain’t the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you. The worst thing is to die before you get your call. And let me tell you the truth as I know it. You there, you lean in and … Continue reading Wise Whispers from the Granny Witches
“Don’t tell ’em about the lights,” Granny had always warned me. “Too many folks out there will blame ’em on the ol’ devil. And they’ll take ya down to the church house and have ya prayed on and think ya got hellions in ya. So just don’t tell ’em.” I first mentioned the lights to Granny, … Continue reading Don’t Tell ’em About the Lights
People love bad news. They’ll rip it from its delicate wrapping like some sweet confection and devour it like they haven’t eaten in weeks. And they’ll gladly save you a piece, hoping you’ll take a bite big enough to choke on. But they never want to eat their own candy, of course. Bad news is … Continue reading While Atlanta was a Burnin’
There are worse things than death. But still we fight it tooth and coffin nail, no matter how much pain or sickness has eaten away at our very bones. We fight that inevitable sleep, like new babies not wanting to miss the next taste of sweet milk or bright flicker of light. We fight to … Continue reading O, Death: Mysteries of the Long Sleep