My island sisters and I wandered down to the beach last night under a luminous October moon. We danced in a clearing behind the church where a labyrinth will soon be born. We raised our arms into the shape of a chalice and drew Her into our bodies. We offered up prayers of gratitude and prayers of intention, for ourselves and for our families and circle sisters. There in that circle, I knew I wasn’t leaving the island. The island, these woods, these beaches, this moon, these sisters — they’re part of me forever. They’ve become part of my history and part of my character. Forever.
We wound our way down the stairs to the beach and they helped me over the big driftwood logs (ouch! my knee creaked). Now who would have thought you could find beach glass by moonlight? Everything gleamed, not just the bits of glass — the kelp, the stones, the shells, the driftwood, all sparkled under Her gaze. And yet Colleen found the beach glass. First one, for herself; then one for me and one for Wanda and one for Michele. I tried and tried but couldn’t find any for myself. Good thing I have my sisters.
(Photo: beach glass on my altar.)