This Yule was a time spent with a brother north of Montreal in the mountains of Quebec. Taking in honor of our Nordique and Scandinavian ancestors, we celebrated many of the traditions of the yule tide, from the birth of the new :S:olar Year until the 12th day of Yule. Each day bearing the frith and joy of company, gift exchanging, deep connections with nature, cabin camping, hearty food and comfort. We hailed the gods, and some of our heroes, drank horns of mead, ate wild game; duck and rabbit, and went into the werewolf mountain on snowshoes to make winter Blót to the old Gods who are with us, stoking the flames of the slumbering deadwood. A family cabin in the backcountry provided some precious time submersed in the Northern wilderness surrounded by :B:irch, maple and boreal forest, where we lit our yule hearth, and sage bundles to cleanse the old and bring in the new, making oaths and boasts over many a glass of craft beer, the blessed :ALU: inspired states overcoming our consciousness and waxing speech into the night as we read from the Jomsviking Saga, and the myths of Odin and his brothers. Two :S:ig runes were branded on flesh, from brother to brother, as markers of victory in the year and success in the rebirth of this new life ahead, and Icelandic staves inked onto skin, with troth and promise to the ways of yore. Snowshoeing onto a frozen lake and through golden birch forests, we harvested the first of this years medicinal Chaga. In communion with the Agaric mushroom, and the sacred northern herbs, deep meditations brought the mind into the high hall. Finding warmth in the frozen waste, song in the long nights, and bliss in the purity of the season We howl in the time of Yule to the forefathers and foremothers, as wolven denizens of this land. Sowing new seeds, and strengthening old roots!