Stepping into Crone beings with a ritual of my own. I’m not, and never have been, “flamboyant” I don’t need some great demonstration and spectacle. In all my years living in a magical world, I’ve been a loner, I seek advice and council from the whispers of the wind, the dance of the flames, the flow of the water and the messages from the earth. If you open your eyes and ears nature will talk to you and show you the path.

Crone is the next step and one that needs honouring, noting and respecting and when best to set intent than under the blood red moon. Nature is my ritual, and my walks with Link, my faithful friend, a German shepherd, are where we acknowledge the world and watch nature deliver the lessons we need and shows us the road ahead, this is council that is open to all, you only need to be willing to listen and learn.

A simple walk, a simple intent, today I start the next stage of my journey, I will observe the lessons, I will step forward, I will step up and take the mantel of Crone, I will honour my ancestors and pass on the wise words I have learnt and, of course, I will still learn, for you learn every day.

Today as I walked I saw the farmers they were out in the distance fields preparing for the months ahead, we took our time this morning, Link taking his time to sniff, me taking time to notice.

The red kite flew over head circling, he saw me, he was unfazed, his world and mine worked in perfect harmony, he knew his path and I mine.

We walked through the ploughed fields but today I’d chosen the route through the woods into the next field. It was overgrown, it’s a place no one goes but, if you look, take a moment to see, you can see the paths once walked, once trodden, those were the paths that all too many have forgotten but now I found myself stepping out, following them, following what had gone before, before reaching the edge, the stepping into the clearing of the field, over the path in front was a archway made from the dog rose, I bowed respectfully and went under the archway, in folklore walking under a natural rose arch is a symbol of moving from one stage of life to another, an initiation, I passed underneath. With only one step left until I was out into the clearing this was guarded by a thick bramble too low to go under too high just to step over. Firmly and carefully I stepped on it making sure I didn’t get tangled in it knowing how much brambles can harm, not today, today I walked my way. The bramble gave way to me and allowed me to pass with only a minor scratch and a little blood, but blood letting felt appropriate. Out into the field I emerged the sun shone, that step had been taken, the rite of passage marked. The step into Crone.

The ash trees appearance struck me, it was heavy with the “ash key” the seeds waiting to be dropped, the ash looked heavy, holding on to them until the perfect moment, that time is not yet, the abundance was calling me to take note, around the field the hedgerow, the Hawthorn, was bursting with berries almost bending from the weight, the abundance again glaringly obvious. We continued on our way.

It was time to step out of the field, a place I often walk. But today unseen, a thorn pieced my boot, in times gone by I would have persevered dealing with the uncomfortable feeling not thinking I had the time to stop, forever in the hurry of youth. Instead I stopped, removed my boot took the time and managed to pull the thorn from my boot, the journey on was discomfort free and all for a 5 minute pause. Under my foot as I had put the boot back on the ant working, showing the patience needed.

Already a shift in my perspective, one where experience makes for an easier journey.

Looking at the world around me, I was reminded of natures foresight, when long harsh winters are coming Mother Nature provides the berries for the animals to store and to survive the tough times ahead. I felt this, not only in nature but in our world. I know the time is right, we need to step up, I need to step up.

The evening was marked with the blood red moon, the eclipse, even the moon knows what’s ahead of us.

A fire was lit, the moon rose, the tawny owl screeched in to the night.

The journey has begun.