Hi from the solstice. Not that "the solstice" is a place ... it kind of is, though. It's the heart of winter, an auspicious day back in pagan times, for, you know, cosmic reasons. Me? I think the sparkle of today is just the promise that life will return.
Isn't that why we drag green branches into our home when there's nothing green outside?
It's interesting, actually, to remember why we do all the shit we do this time of year.
"The symbolic use of plants at Christmas effectively transforms the modern-day living room into a place of shamanic ritual," reads Pagan Christmas: The Plants, Spirits, And Rituals At the Origins Of Yuletide.
Saturnalia and the Wild Hunt. Yule logs, the cult of tree worship, and magic mushrooms that let your mind soar the sky like it's on a sleigh. That winter holiday, the one we forgot about, sounds a whole lot rowdier and more darkly magical. And I'm down for that ... I can't speak for you, of course.
The mistletoe I hung—for kissin' season. The Druids would be proud.
Ye olde Christmas ficas tree.