The Tale of the Owls


I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been seeing owls lately. Lots of owls. Necklaces, earrings, tumblr posts, bags, socks, you name it, I’ve seen it. I’d been poking at it here and there trying to figure out what it is, but not too energetically. I kind of enjoyed the mystery, the flirtatious dance before introductions are made.

The night of our Spring Equinox ritual, I asked Brooke to tell me what she thought about my owl problem. We’d discussed previously that it might be Athena, but it didn’t feel quite right to either of us. I completely forgot to take a picture of the reading she did for me, but it really doesn’t matter. She settled on Arianrhod and when she started reading out details of Her associations, I got a thrill or a chill or both down my spine.

That’s kind of set me off over the past couple of weeks. I’ve acquired a pair of owl stud earrings, two owl necklaces, two small stone owl statuettes, another tumblr user is sending me a carved owl, and I’ve set up an e-shrine to my Lady Arianrhod.

The stories of Her turning into an owl don’t resonate with me, but the idea that She works with Her daughter-in-law, Blodeuwedd who was turned into an owl by Gwydion (the brother that shamed Her and raised Her illegitimate son), and that Blodeuwedd’s kin would be Her messengers does.

I see Her, also, as the full moon that illuminates everything in a pastiche of daylight when the sky is clear. She is the inky blackness between the stars, spilled across white marble. Silver is sacred to Her, and obsidian. Everything about Her is cool– not the frozen cold of snow, but the cool hand on fevered cheek, the slight breeze at midnight in early summer. Her moonlight reflects the true nature of things, or else their ethereal side.

She is everything my Lady Frigga is not. Frigga is warm wood and gold and fire, warm blankets and hot cocoa. She is the cozy house where the firelight holds the cold and darkness at bay and everything exists in ruddy earth tones, dark greens and blues, and off-white creme.

Frigga is the solid weight of physical existence while Arianrhod is the ephemeral wispiness of the soul or the mind. Frigga settles you in for the long winter with stories of ages past and traditions still kept while Arianrhod propels you forward, out into the summer nights untrammeled by physical restrictions of distance or time, to seek the unknown and unfound.

I am in awe.

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Frigga devotee, Dedicant of Ar nDraiocht Fein

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