An eclectic mix of book and music reviews, ramblings and other flotsam and jetsom encountered on an expedition to find a place in the pre-Christian religious traditions, and practices of the British Isles.
As the high winds, accompanied by rain, arrived last night I found myself listening to the sounds; imagining the trendils of the Cailleach's hair streaking through the trees. Being still, being silent and just listening conjured a mass of imagery. It was uplifting.
The house shook quite a few times from the pressure, but I slept soundly just allowing my mind to drift on the melody of the maelstrom.