Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Moon Horns
Shortly after sunset, the horns ring out.
These are the Moon Horns, sounding from the Tower on Witches' Hill, the highest point in the city, a signal from the official watchers. It can mean only one thing: New Moon!
The First Crescent has been sighted in the sky, marking the beginning of another month. Across the city, horns ring out in reply, passing along the happy news, washing out from the Tower in concentric circles like ripples from a lake-cast stone.
The Moon Call is broadcast on local radio and television as well. Everyone that can dons their finery and rushes out, facing West, to greet the First Crescent in the sky with the traditional incense, hymns, and libations.
Others hasten to light the bonfires in park and backyard where people will gather to welcome the return of She Who Shines by Night and to wish one another Merry Moon.
The sound of drums rises across the city. The parties will continue well into the night.
Thou Queen, Maiden of Guidance;
thou Queen, Maiden of Good Fortune;
thou Queen, Maiden my Beloved:
O New Moon of the seasons!
Comments
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Saturday, 25 April 2020
Soon may we see it, Sarah!
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I love this. I love the imagery it portrays and the longing that it creates in my heart.