The first of the sacred seeds batch has been re:wilded unto the earth. Atop a rocky crag on the coast of Newfoundland, in a village known to the locals as Wolf Cove. These hands unearthed the moist humus to make a nest for the seeds of the Black Henbane. Planted in the fashion of a sun-wheel, galdored over with medicine runes, and offerings of life essence, and Freyja’s hawk feathers. The most resplendent sunset emblazoned the sky thereafter, with deep amber and crimson hues washed over the Atlantic Oceanic abyss. There I sat and observed, as two gulls, a mating pair took evening refuge upon the same coastline I frequented, though oft in the distance. A clatter of squaks and guttural emanations between the female and the male, and then the latter hovered off gracefully above the waves for one last nightly hunt. To be privy to such an experience, as the female stood aloft on the golum of stone, and the wall, flying afar, so far. Their communication only know to them, yet an understanding know to all those who HEAR.
The Henbane seeds will go into stasis for the winter, under a slightly deeper level of dark chocolate soil, and coming to root in Spring. I am eager to return next year and observe their condition, though I have read that the seeds oft take two years to flower. This project is part of a greater working beyond myself of which was written earlier in the summer. A vessel of Morning Glory seeds hides in the damp urth of Nova Scotia, waiting to be dug up and replanted in the spring, this was done during a rite with a comrade on the south coast, and hallowed with a twig bindrune where the vessel is planted. Belladonna seeds will also take root here in Scotland, the places and spaces to be foretold…
:aferalspirit: 