The season of death

Because she was special and deserves the biggest fanbase  I can provide her with, I have written about Pringle (while touching on a few larger issues, such as the ramifications of serving a god of the dead such as Odin) over at my Threads blog on the Witches & Pagans site.  (And after you’ve read it, don’t forget to explore some of the many other great blogs you’ll find at PaganSquare!)

Ear (Ground) is loathsome to all men,
yet certainly the body will be set upon there,
the corpse grows cold, the soil accepts its pale bedfellow;
leaves fall, pleasures depart, men cease to be. 

– Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem

I will be posting a follow-up to my thoughts on establishing a hearth, as promised, but in the meantime life has intervened and supplied a subject matter that has to take precedence, since it’s all I can spare any degree of deep thought for right now.  That subject, of course, is (as my title indicates) the one that naturally trumps all others: death.

For us, in our little household with its deep ties to Odin (my partner is His oathed daughter and I am His wife, by virtue of sacred marriage vows taken ten years ago now), the season of death generally begins at the end of September and goes until the end of Yule, which is roughly the first week of January.  The informal beginning of the season at Michaelmas on September 29th (which I have dubbed Valfather’s Day for the past few years, in one of my created/re-fashioned festival days) was confirmed a few years back by the death on September 28th of my partner Jolene’s elderly Pomeranian, Angel, followed up the very next year by the death of my elderly and cancer-ridden Keeshond, Orion.

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2 thoughts on “The season of death”

    1. No, it doesn’t. It goes on being my favorite time of year somehow, despite all of this, because it is the season when He is at His most primal, when the veils are thinnest. It’s wonderful and terrible and it sucks, all at once!

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