This year we celebrate Anise Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum), an aromatic flowering perennial in the mint family. Surprisingly, Anise Hyssop is neither anise nor hyssop. The fragrance of the leaves is often described as anise, but the scent is really more like basil or French tarragon . The flowers have no scent.

This is an excellent choice for the Herb of the Year. To say that Hyssop is “easy to grow” is an understatement. It will thrive almost anywhere within the USDA Plant Hardiness Zones 4 – 8, even in the poorest conditions, although it favors a sunny, well-drained spot. It can even be grown in pots. Hyssop is a low-growing plant, rarely reaching more than four feet tall. It will spread through its roots and readily self-seeds.

Butterflies, pollinators and hummingbirds love it. Deer and rabbits usually let it be. The lovely lavender flowers bloom all summer, good news for pollinators seeking nectar. Leave the seeds on the stalks through the cooler months for the birds.

Fresh hyssop leaves can be crumpled into a salad or used in making jellies. Seeds add an interesting flavor to muffins or cookies. Try mixing some into a potpourri.

The medicinal uses of this herb are amazingly diverse.  Use the leaves, either fresh or dried.

As an infusion or tea, it relieves the misery of the common cold. Not only does it break up congestion but it also helps to sweat out a fever when taken hot. A cold infusion eases chest pains that result from too much coughing.  For respiratory infections or bronchitis, it is an expectorant and cough suppressant. Add licorice to boost the effects. Its sedative properties can also help you get the rest you need to get better.

For stomach ailments, such as gas, bloating, or diarrhea, sip anise hyssop tea with a meal.

Externally, use this herb as a poultice for burns or wounds and as a wash to soothe the itch of poison ivy or other skin conditions.  Put a sachet of hyssop leaves into the bath to ease the discomfort of sunburn or fungal conditions like athlete’s foot.

Another facet of this pleasant, easygoing herb is that it is probably the most widely used for purification purposes. Add it to the bath in a sachet, infuse it and sprinkle whatever or whoever needs cleansed, or hang a bundle of it up in the home to protect against and banish negativity.

Hyssop has been used as a cleansing and protecting agent since ancient times. The Old Testament tells of the Hebrews painting lamb’s blood on their doorways with sprigs of Hyssop to guard against the Angel of Death. In medieval times, bouquets of this charming herb were thought to dispel the plague. It is under the planetary rulership of Jupiter and the element of Fire.

This year’s celebration of Anise Hyssop is well-deserved and long overdue. Take some time to enjoy some of its many pleasures during 2019!

Several years ago as a roving reporter for a children’s online zine, I was sent on assignment to interview…The Hag!

Kinda scary, huh? Well, I volunteered to do these interviews so I guess it’s all in a day’s–or night’s–work for this inquisitive Witch. I patted my pocket to be sure I had my trusty notebook and pen, put on my traveling boots and grabbed my favorite black hoodie, the one with the skulls and roses down the front (sure to impress the Hag!) and off I went.

Over the past several years, I have made friends with the Hag, or at least gotten to know her better–it happens to us when we get older–so I had a pretty good idea of where she might be found. I hiked up the hill towards the graveyard.

A cold wind suddenly chilled me and I put my hood up. A flurry of dry leaves swirled around my feet. I needed to gather some courage; sometimes the Hag can be fearsome and wicked. Along the fence of the graveyard, clusters of nightshade berries sparkled like dark beads strung on the dying vines. I stopped to admire them and to take a few deep breaths before I went on.

“Mine! Don’t touch!” The raspy voice nearly made me jump out of my skin. I turned around and found myself face to face with what I thought at first was an old Halloween mask. It looked so funny, I almost burst out laughing. Green face, wart on the nose, another one on the chin (with a single whisker growing out of it) stringy black hair, snaggly fangs, and to top it all off a black pointed hat, slightly crinkled. She cackled and pointed a bony, crooked green finger at me, while she croaked, “Yes, all mine! The poison berries!”

“Yours?” I repeated, trying not to giggle. Was this a joke? It looked like a bad Halloween costume. This year zombies are in, or so I’ve been told. Isn’t it a little old-school to dress up as a witch? Then it dawned on me. I stood up straight and looked her in the eyes. “You’re not–”

“I am,” she said before I finished asking. Her long black cape billowed in another cold gust of wind. I shivered as I thought maybe this wasn’t a joke after all. “And I have some questions for YOU,” she added, tapping me with one of her claws.

“But… but… I’m the one who’s supposed to ask the questions!” I blurted out. She shushed me.

“Don’t talk back! Respect your Elders. Now, first of all, what’s my name?”

I stuttered through all the names I knew that belonged to the Hag. “Banshee? Cailleach? Old Woman? Hel? Nightmare? Black Annie? Grandmother Winter? Crone?”

The Hag nodded and showed all three of her crusty teeth. “Keep going.”

“Darkness? Nightshade? Midnight? Frost?” I guessed, and finally whispered, “Death?”

She frowned and shrugged. “Those are some of my names, yes. Does my disguise frighten you?”

“Disguise? It’s a disguise? To be quite honest, I didn’t expect you to look like this,” I admitted.

The Hag was amused. “This is how most people think of me,” she chuckled. “I suppose they have to make a joke out of what scares them the most. So you think you know what I really look like?”

I stepped back. For a minute, I thought she was going to take off her mask and show me her true form. Instead, she just waited for me to answer. Carefully, I said, “Well, I always thought you would look like a very, very old woman and not at all beautiful. You would look like the ugliest gray day of winter. Or a pile of bones. Your face would look like an ancient stone, all craggy and mysterious. Your hands would be colder than ice and your skin as wrinkled as a thousand year old mummy.”

Her laugh was an owl-hoot. “Why do you think that?”

“The poison berries are yours,” I remind her. “Everything about you is dark and shadowy.”

This made her smile. “Trust my darkness! In darkness, everything rests,” the Hag told me. “The trees and animals hibernate. Seeds sleep deep in the earth. Without the dark, there would be no bright. Without the night, you’d know no light. Think about that!”

And I did. Silence wrapped around us like a cloak. I looked down at my notebook and realized I was looking at a blank page, but it was too late to ask any questions now. The Hag had vanished without a sound, leaving me with her mysterious words of wisdom, and my interview that had been turned upside-down, topsy-turvy. She had asked all the questions and somehow gave me answers too.

I’d been tricked!

It was a good trick, though, because before the Hag vanished, her mask slipped a little and I caught a glimpse of the beautiful face of Lady Springtime hiding underneath.

Sweet dreams and happy Imbolc!

 

Hag image from an original folk art painting by Creativelyjuiced on Etsy (sold out)

Brighid (detail) from http://www.jojayson.com

 

 

 

When I was a child I remember when a flock of birds would fly by, my grandmother would say “There goes the wedding!” We would have fun with this, putting names of friends to it. I loved imagining Patty’s or Debbie’s wedding as a raucous, skyward flight of starlings. My grandmother was a first-generation American from immigrant Czech parents and I don’t know if she recalled where this rather strange idea originated. I only recently stumbled upon the source of the tradition, much to my amusement.

 

During one of those idle rambles through folklore links on the internet, I came across “the birds’ wedding” and recognized it as my grandmother’s little game. According to the sparse bits of information I gleaned, it is celebrated on the evening of January 24, mainly in the area where the borders of Germany, Poland, and the Czech Republic intersect. On this night, children set out plates of seeds in honor of the wedding of the male thrush and female blackbird. The next morning, if all goes well, the newlyweds will have accepted the offerings and left some treats from their wedding in the form of bird-shaped cookies or sweets shaped like nests. Here is the charming little tune the children sing, often dressed up in traditional wedding costumes for the occasion. The lyrics, even though in German, are easy to understand.

Like any bits of folklore that have come down to us through generations, this is not just random nonsense. There is a reason why January 25 is celebrated as The Birds’ Wedding, and that is because this is the start of the birds’ mating season, a sure sign that Spring is just around the corner. Not only that, but this time of year is traditionally time to watch for omens in the sky, the waters, and the land to divine how the rest of the year will go. Keeping vigil for Groundhog Day is a prime example.

 

So if you see a flock of birds suddenly soar into the sky, think of it as their wedding party, as I have done all my life, according to my grandmother’s observations. And now I understand the traditions that are at the root of it all, which makes bird-weddings all the more fun!

(illustration of “Vogelhochzeit” by Fritz Baumgarten)

 

RAGGED AND RAVAGING HUNGER GNAWS DEEP

IN WINTER’S BELLY.   WOLVES KNOW WELL

HOW TO SURVIVE THE HAG’S WHITE SEASON.

HER EMPTY HANDS FEED ONLY WICKED WINDS.

HER BLOODLESS LIMBS MOCK SLEEPING TREES,

WHERE HOWLS OF FAMINE HANG ALOFT,

PRAYERS FROZEN ERE THEY REACH PALE MOON.

THESE PRAYERS FALL TO EARTH AS DIAMOND DUST,

WORTHLESS TO WOLVES, PRECIOUS TO HAG,

HEART COLD AS THE FARAWAY STARS THAT DREAM,

OBLIVIOUS TO SMALL, STARVED BONES BELOW,

SAVAGELY SCAVENGED IN RAVEN-WOLF FEAST.

 

Goldie Brown, copyright 2018

(photo by Edwin Smalley)

 

 

January is the season for dreaming. Between Winter Solstice and Imbolc, the long nights get a little shorter and it’s time to get some serious dreaming done while we can. By Imbolc, the first signs of lengthening days become noticeable. Snowdrops, hellebore and even some crocuses venture out from under the frozen ground. Animals come out of hibernation and so do we!

 

Until then, though, dream on. Visualize the seeds that fell to the ground at harvest time, sleeping deep in the earth, beginning to glow with new life. Think of the plans you made last year and sort out what worked and didn’t work. See in your mind’s eye what you want to be this year and what you want to accomplish. Consider your hopes and wishes, with no limits. This is a time for wild creativity.

 

There’s another side to January dreaming in addition to contemplating the coming year. This month’s dreams may be unusually rich, vivid and deep. Make use of this by keeping a dream journal, if you don’t already have one. Keep it, along with a reliable writing instrument, beside your bed within easy reach. It’s been proven that the more you try to remember dreams, the more dreams you’ll have, and the ones you have will be more meaningful. It is important to write down everything you can recall as soon as possible after waking because the details and even the dream itself will fade as your everyday consciousness takes over. Even if the dreams are silly or don’t make sense, write them down anyway. If you look back on the pages of your dream journal a few months from now, or at this time next year, you may discover some amazing insights hidden in your nighttime ramblings.

 

Herbal aids to dreaming include mugwort, valerian, passionflower, damiana, cannabis, burdock and peppermint, all of which can be taken as a tea before bedtime. These herbs are known to enhance dreams and perhaps even bring what is called “lucid dreaming”. The effects vary greatly from one person to another, so experiment, take notes, and find out what works best for you. It isn’t wise to become too dependent on any of these herbs, however. Use them only as enhancements for what occurs naturally. Don’t over- use them or your dreams can become distorted.

 

What are dreams anyway? Sometimes the mind keeps working on a stubborn problem after the body goes to sleep and the images are projected upon closed eyelids in a kind of dream theater. Sometimes the happenings of the day are replayed in symbols and strange characters. Sometimes guides will appear in dreams, offering pathways or advice. And sometimes physical conditions experienced in sleep will carry over, resulting in the common bathroom dream or reaching for an extra blanket.

 

Dreams have been used as healing therapy since ancient times. There were dream-temples and sanctuaries in many places, such as the temple to the Celtic god Nodens in Lydney, Gloucestershire and Asklepios in ancient Greece, where rituals were enacted to bring important dreams.

 

If you keep a dream diary, you’ll probably notice that you often return to some of the same places or meet the same people, known or unknown in waking life. Usually these involve a setting like a school or dormitory, or streets that seem vaguely familiar. Large buildings with networks of staircases are also common backdrops. Pay attention when you find yourself returning to these places, which can be an important part of your inner landscape.

 

By Imbolc, the dreams, whatever they happen to be, will start manifesting in tiny, barely perceptible ways. Keep recording them in your journal and notice any changes. Meanwhile, make the best use of the long nights while they last!

For further reading:

http://www.hallowquest.org.uk/temple-of-nodens-incubation

https://earthandstarryheaven.com/2018/07/05/nodons/

https://www.ancient-origins.net/ancient-places-europe/mysterious-healing-centre-asklepion-pergamum-00828

 

 

How do Witches celebrate the “New Year”? With most of the world eagerly awaiting the arrival of 2019 on the calendar date of January 1, there are other perspectives that are quietly observed as well. This is not the Witches’ New Year. It is nothing but the turning of a page in the datebook of the mundane world, numbered according to a planner that few of us follow.

 

So when, exactly, is the Witches New Year, one may ask, if not on January 1?

 

This requires some explanation. Witches generally consider Samhain (October 31) as the end of our year. Others celebrate Winter Solstice (on or around December 21) as a festival of rebirth. Imbolc comes on February 1, marking the first signs of Winter’s end. And on Spring Equinox (on or around March 21) the Sun begins a new cycle as it enters Aries, the first sign of the Zodiac, another new beginning. All four of these dates can be observed as a “new year,” and there is no right or wrong.

 

The reason is simply because our perspective of dates and times is based on the cycle of seasons and events that occur in the natural world. Very rarely, in the natural world, do things change overnight. One season blends gradually into the next. Even though Winter Solstice is popularly known as The First Day of Winter, there is rarely a sudden onset of ice and snow on that day. Same applies to Spring Equinox, after which date there may still be snow on the emerging crocuses.

 

There are also remnants of ancient agricultural practices mingled in with the Witches’ seemingly unconventional calendar. Samhain was the time for slaughtering animals to provide a good store of food for the colder months. The first frost took whatever crops were not yet harvested. People gathered in after a season of outdoor living. It was the betweening-time, when the Otherworld seemed closer at hand. It is the season when death and endings are everywhere around us.

 

One of the most common sacred symbols shared by Witches is the Circle, or the Wheel of the Year. Circles and Wheels have no sharp angles, rather, things flow into each other. Every ending is a beginning and the celebration goes on and on.

Winter Solstice, the longest night, signals the beginning of returning sunlight to the land, another observance of rebirth or “new year” so to speak. Witches are not the only ones who indulge in feasting and merriment at this time. They are joined across the globe by anyone else who lights candles in hopes of driving the darkness away or welcoming brighter days ahead. It is no coincidence that there are worldwide festivals of light at this time.

 

At Imbolc, the longer days and return of sunshine finally becomes noticeable as hibernating animals begin to awaken, ice-bound rivers start to thaw, and the first shoots of new vegetation rise from the earth. These are foreshadowings of what happens on Spring Equinox, when the promises of seeds buried at Samhain start a new cycle.

 

The New Year, for we Witches, is a continuous celebration for almost half the year. It doesn’t happen overnight because, as everyone knows, Nature rarely abides by the strict, linear rules of calendar time. She dances to the heartbeat of Her own world – and so should we, constantly seeking to match our steps to the rhythms and rhymes of Earth, Sun, Moon and Stars.

 

Horehound (Marrubium vulgara) is one of my favorite herbs because of its remedial action on sore throats and coughs, the bane of indoor wintertime living. Most of us are confined to dry, overheated environments for most of the time starting around Samhain and continuing through Imbolc or beyond. Not only is this is the idea breeding ground of all sorts of viruses and bacteria, it also has the effect of parching our respiratory systems, resulting in dry coughs, throat infections, bronchitis or other ailments. As a triple Taurus, I am susceptible to throat problems, hence my affection for horehound.

 

Once you have horehound in your herb garden, you’ll probably have it forever. Its a hardy perennial in the mint family that self-seeds and can pop up anywhere once established. The greenish-gray leaves are aromatic and bitter, growing on square, hairy stems. In September, small white flowers appear which can later turn into prickly burrs that cling readily to anything or anyone, carrying the seeds far and wide.  Bees love it. It is repulsive to grasshoppers and a good companion to tomatoes. Horehound can grow almost anywhere, even in the worst of soils, although it prefers dry, sunny and hot conditions. It originally came from North Africa and southwest to central Asia then traveled to Europe and finally came to North and South America where it naturalized and put down roots. It is easy to cultivate and can be found growing wild.

 

Why is it called horehound? Most sources claim it was named after the Egyptian god Horus. The “hound” may be the result of folk beliefs that the herb repels packs of dogs and other wild beasts.

 

The active ingredients in horehound are sesquiterpene bitters, marrubin, volatile oil, flavanoids and mucilage. The leaves are used in tonics, liquers and ales.  Its healing properties do not diminish when heated or steeped. An infusion of horehound leaves is expectorant, relaxing the muscles so that mucus can be expelled. For this reason, its a good remedy for bronchitis, asthma and croup. It is also a liver tonic and a laxative.

 

The flavor of horehound is something between mint and menthol but be forewarned it is very bitter. When using it as a tea or other recipes, go heavy on the honey. Horehound leaves can be combined with licorice root, marshmallow root, and ginger root, plus a generous dollop of honey for cough syrup. The recommended dosage is 2 to 6 Tablespoons daily, as needed.

 

Another of my favorite horehound remedial recipes is cough drops. I like to make these in advance so they are on hand for whenever the occasion arises. By the way, white horehound is an ingredient in almost every kind of the popular Ricola cough drops!

 

HOREHOUND COUGH DROPS

 

1 cup fresh horehound leaves  (or 1/3 cup dried)

1 cup honey – don’t use raw honey because it loses its benefits when heated

1 cup sugar

1 tsp cream of tartar

1 tsp butter

 

Put horehound in a glass jar and pour in a pint of boiling water. Let steep for 30-60 minutes. Then squeeze through strainer or cheesecloth, saving the liquid and setting the herb aside for compost. Pour the liquid into a large pot and add all the rest of the ingredients except butter. Bring to a boil and continue until it reaches 240 degrees on a candy thermometer. Then add the butter and continue until the candy thermometer reads 300. Pour into a greased pan and cool for just a few minutes, until you can handle it without burning your fingers. Pull off a piece and roll it into a cough drop sized shape. Wrap the cough drops in waxed paper and store in the fridge. (Note: using a silicone ice cube tray or candy molds may be easier than trying to hand-roll the drops!)

(Note: I wrote this poem so that it can be read upside-down/backwards in keeping with the customs of Saturnalia, when everything turns topsy-turvy.)

Io Saturnalia Io!

Equal are all today while

Southward staggers Sun

Warmth, life, light fight

Cold, death, darkness.

Abide, festival eternal!

Holyday, fade never!

Tokens ancient and sacred,

Gifted holly,

Nuts and seeds,

Lighted candles with hope dawns

Sun undying

Io Saturnalia Io!

Io Saturnalia Io!

Undying Sun

Dawns hope with candles lighted

Seeds and nuts,

Holly gifted,

Sacred and ancient tokens,

Never fade, Holyday!

Eternal festival, abide!

Darkness, death, cold,

Fight light, life, warmth.

Sun staggers southward

While today all are equal,

Io Saturnalia Io!

(painting “The King Drinks” by David Teniers the Younger, showing 12th night celebration with the Lord of Misrule, 1634-1640)

 

 

The stones stand naked to the sun and moon

With nothing to protect them from the dark,

Frozen giants whose midnight came too soon,

Awaiting the release of Solstice spark,

 

Alive in light, awakened by the drum –

A pulse heard by the ones attuned to hear,

Who listen for the cosmic Solstice hum,

Star-harmony on the longest night of year.

 

Some say they sing, some say they even dance

When touched by the strumming fingers of the sun,

And every hidden rainbow is enhanced

In ribbons of forgotten bliss, undone.

 

The ageless magic shines in stars and snow,

Beaming hope and peace to all who wait and know.

 

by Goldie Brown, December 21, 2010

In Part 1 of this series, we explored different causes and definitions of the Winter Blues, along with some possible herbal remedies. With the Winter Solstice rapidly approaching, Part 2 is on the theme of the returning Sun, an especially joyful event for those who have been down with the Winter Blues this year.

Carrying on the idea that the SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) situation is brought on at least in part by the shortened days and their dull, gray monotony, one obvious remedy is to find ways to work more Sun into the picture. Starting at Samhain and lasting until Imbolc when we begin to notice more light in our lives again, the so-called dwelling-within time can be fraught with challenges, such as staying awake, resisting the urge to hibernate, fighting compulsions to overeat or skip meals, and worst of all struggling with a heavy, inexplicable sadness. There is, of course, no way to physically bring back the sunshine, although some doctors prescribe special lamps that supposedly provide what SAD sufferers lack. The presence of certain solar herbs and spices, however, can lift dismal spirits, breathe more energy into the short, dark days, and even brighten up the seemingly endless nights.

By the way, it is no coincidence that some of these plant medicines are associated with Yuletide and other Winter holidays. People have been using them, consciously or not, to cheer themselves up and create a welcoming atmosphere at home for thousands of years.

The first Sun-ruled remedy that come to mind is one of the most popular of the season, a scent that often appears everywhere even before the first frost and stays with us through most of the Winter.No, it’s not the ubiquitous Pumpkin Spice, although it is one of the ingredients. The fragrance of Cinnamon, also called Sweet Wood, is warming and stimulating. Cinnamon oil was an ingredient of holy anointing oil used by ancient Hebrews. Roman temples were decorated with wreaths that had leaves of the cinnamon tree woven in with other herbs. The pleasant aroma has long been considered not only healing and uplifting but protective as well.

Another familiar Winter tradition is to hang clove-studded oranges in the home. This is another vestige of old wisdom that still lives on, no matter if the reasons have been forgotten. Cloves , like the cinnamon with which they are often paired, are associated with the element of Fire. Protection, purification and cleansing are attributes of this mystically scented herb. When combined with the bright and sweet smell of sunny citrus, the effect is sure to bring out smiles, even if only for the memories of previous happy holidays.

Mistletoe, which grows as a parasite upon oak trees (sacred to many solar deities worldwide), is another symbol of the season. The berries can be fatal if ingested. A weak infusion of the twigs ad leaves is useful for reducing internal bleeding by lowering the blood pressure. As a remedy for SAD, mistletoe’s charm is a bit more subtle, a touch of green in the dark winter woods that gives hope of the rebirth of life. As a symbol of the Sun, whose light grows stronger each day after Winter Solstice, it is a talisman of the promise of returning Light.

Cedar and Juniper are two of my favorite Winter herbs, especially when woven together in a wreath whose circular form stands for the turning of the Wheel of the Year. These two aromatic plants are interchangeable for purification purposes.

Twigs of Cedar are often used, with or without sage, in a smudge bundle for clearing away “bad vibes”. The twigs are lit and then extinguished to smolder, which creates a kind of incense smoke. Opening windows is advisable before smudging indoors.

Juniper is said to be one of the earliest incenses used by Mediterranean Witches. Hung on the door, its protection guards the premises against the entry of every kind of negative force, from unwanted ghosts to thieves. Generally speaking, it is an all-purpose exorcism herb.

Solar herbs also include those with yellow flowers that flourish through summer, embodying the bright warmth of the opposite season from Winter Solstice. If you tend to have a chronic, annual bout of sadness, prepare yourself by picking these herbs when they are in flower. Hang them up to dry, then store them in airtight glass jars in a cool, dark place so that they will be available as needed.

St. John’s Wort is among these sunny plants, well-known as a cure for depression, especially when gathered on Midsummer’s Day or on a Friday, or dried over the Summer Solstice bonfire and hung anywhere in the house. It is available in health food stores in capsule form for oral use as an anti-depressant.

Chamomile’s little golden flowers, when brewed as a tea, are soothing and calming, a useful remedy against the restlessness and insomnia that often accompanies the winter blues. This herb is not recommended, however, if lethargy is a symptom because it may induce even more tendency to sleep. Anyone who is allergic to ragweed should not use chamomile because it’s in the same plant family.

One more sunny herb to consider as helpful for SAD is calendula or marigold. It is said that when picked at noon when the sun is at its peak, marigolds will strengthen and comfort the heart. When grown in a garden, they protect whatever grows around them, and a garland of marigolds over the doorway guard the threshold. Just the sight of the bright blooms is enough to banish gloom.

In closing, I offer this Health Philtre from “The Herbal Alchemist’s Handbook” by Karen Harrison, a book I highly recommend.

The ingredients are all Sun herbs:

Calendula, St John’s Wort, chamomile and juniper berries.

At sunrise, place about one tablespoon of each into a chalice, ceramic bowl, or cauldron big enough to hold at least 16 fluid ounces. As you place the herbs into the receptacle, concentrate on the healing qualities of each one.

Calendula – intake of vital force and energy

St John’s Wort – confidence and mental/emotional balance

Chamomile – calm and serenity

Juniper – banishing any negativities or imbalances

If you like, the philtre can be additionally charged by including a solar gemstone, such as citrine or topaz.

Sit quietly and meditate on health, energy and vitality while you breathe slowly over the herbs. Then pour spring water, rainwater or distilled water into the bowl till about 3/4 full, focusing on blending the herbal energies into one perfectly balanced substance. Stir clockwise to continue charging the philtre with positive intent. This can be done however you like, perhaps by visualizing your aura being energized and clarified, or with a chant or mantra.

When complete, set the philtre mix in the sunniest place you can find, where it will absorb the rays all day. Let the mixture steep till sunset, then cover it and let it continue to steep overnight. At sunrise next day, strain the herbs out and pour the liquid philtre into a sterilized jar with a lid. Bury the strained-out herbs or put them in the compost bin.

The philtre can be kept in the refrigerator. Add a tablespoon to a cup of herb tea any time you feel the need for an energy boost.

Hang in there, Solstice is almost here!