The Crone

And so the sun does set on the month of September. Clouds gather and the nights begin to close in, but still summer ardently clings on with all the anthropomorphised might it can muster. Twenty degree days see-saw with fog so thick it hides every facet of the world. Summer cannot hold on forever and soon we will find ourselves in thunder, lightning or in rain. Already I have seen the drifts of curling brown leaves begin to form in the nooks and crannies of the village. Whole armies of conker shells lie shattered upon the ground, their shiny brown charges spilled and exposed. The year edges ever onwards into its twilight and into darker times. Times where mystery, magic and the possibility of things distinctly other does not seem quite as far-fetched as it did at the height of summer. It is the time of witches, it is the time of The Crone.

A problem I find with quite a few things that I write, is that I can end up being more than a little bit pretentious without any real good reason to. This month is no exception with my wordascope starting out with some handwavey pseudo-philosophy about the nature of questions and answers. Pretentiousness aside, it is rather fun to rabbit on like that for a bit, it makes me feel proper artsy. The subject of witchery and almost-magic is obviously quite prevalent this month, but myself and James have come at it from opposite ends. While I have opted for the slightly cosmic and earth-shattering, he has opted for the glamours of impression and perception. I think they pair up quite nicely.

James Clayton – Crone Calls

The Rogue Verbumancer – Questions and Answers

Remember to check back tomorrow for the start of October’s Pictonaut Challenge