It’s Autumn Equinox Eve. Time for balance, baking, warmth, cinnamon, apples, love, and magic.
“Annabelle,” I say, “the fairies might bring you something tonight for Autumn Equinox.”
Her face lights up. “I’m going to call them on my phone and ask them!” she says. She has a pink maribou feather phone, basically a fairy hotline. She can talk to the fairy queen anytime, day or night.
And the fairies are coming, bringing treasures to Annabelle’s fairy house. A stuffed squirrel, a handmade Autumn fairy doll, wool and silks and magic, all in luscious autumn colors: red, gold, orange.
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The Unhealable Wound
It looked like she was some sort of goddess scattering starlight made of love-bursts right out of her body to wrap around mine. I think she would like that I am not running from my pain. but absorbing and integrating it into my soul, allowing it to change me moment-to-moment, and knowing that time and space can not separate me from her. I think she would encourage me to keep spinning my stories and assure me that they are indeed, spinning into gold. I think she would like that I have found healing in my Unhealable Wound.
