Stepping Into Crone

🌕 Under the blood-red moon, I stepped through the rose arch and into the clearing—one foot scratched by bramble, one heart opened to change. Nature marked the rite, not with spectacle, but with quiet abundance: ash keys waiting to fall, hawthorn heavy with berries, and the whisper of the owl in the night. This is the Crone’s path—not loud, not flamboyant, but deeply felt. I walk it with Link, with intent, and with the wisdom of those who came before. 🌿