The wind is picking up on this late afternoon in the mountains of upstate New York as Norda arrives at one of her favorite spots in the world. The car that has deposited her here goes disappearing down the long drive, its taillights gleaming in a friendly fashion and a promise to return when this night's work is done. Norda sighs wistfully for a moment, but cheers rapidly as the door to the low slung house opens and two men emerge. The younger of the two is fair skinned and dark-haired, with brown eyes that disappear into friendly crinkles when he smiles...and he smiles often. He reaches down from his six-foot height to give Norda a hug and a twirl, and to pick up the carrying case beside her. The older man is seated in a wheelchair, his posture as commanding as though it were a throne. His shock of silver hair frames a face both young and old, with a pair of blue eyes as wide as the sky. Norda leans to hug him as a plaintive "miaouw" sounds from the carrying case. The three laugh and the younger man snaps open the door of the carrier to release the long white cat from his confinement.
A tour is conducted of the grounds, to see the new animals that have found their way to "Wren's Roost" since Norda last was there. This place seems straight out of myth and poem - a place which animals instinctively find but few humans can, a spot where animals can live out their last years in dignity and comfort, no longer abused by man. A pair of mated half-wolves live here, a three-legged fox, a llama,many cats. The two men care for them, as they care for each other. Their greenhouse is a study in herb lore and their little house overflows with books and photographs of animals they have nursed back to health and found homes for, or released to the wild when well.
Phinn the white cat seems to feel it is his right to claim any open lap, so he snuggles down with the man in the wheelchair. After a quick cup of Earl Grey, Norda makes her preparations for the coming night. In the little bathroom, she dons her copper gown and throws on her heavy copper velvet cloak. Jewelry this night is left to her topaz pendant and her silver water-marks ring. She can hear the wind changing....it will be cold but dry this night on the mountain. Here, winter is not far off. In one direction, 15 miles' travel will bring one into Vermont, in another, only 25 miles will land one in Massachusetts. This retreat ringed by mountains is usually an early one to see snow.
Norda picks up a protesting Phinny-cat and carries him out to the barn, where she finds a braided-corn broom, left from her last visit. She puts her kitty down and he follows out of curiosity and anticipation. Behind the barn is a large packed-dirt clearing, in the center of which is an outcropping of striated rock. At her request, her friends have set out candles and matches, and brought her bag of items to be set out later. Norda sweeps the space around the clearing with her corn broom to cast this night's Circle, a poem about "snowsong whistling" murmuring in her mind. She lights golden-orange candles at four points on her altar-rock, puts her newly acquired pentacle in the center, and places two dainty beaten-copper goblets on either side. She hears the arrival of those who would celebrate the Full Moon with her this November night, and bids them welcome to her Circle with hugs. Phinn the white cat greets each in turn in his own fashion, twining about ankles and sniffing their companions in turn. He senses that the rules are a little different this night, and creatures with whom he would otherwise exist in discord are as welcome guests to this Circle as he. Norda opens her arms to the wide sky, which has obligingly cleared with the fall of full dark, and speaks.
"This night we worship Mother and Father, star and moon and sky and earth. The Great Wheel is turning our beloved planet towards the Winter resting of plants, the time to sleep for many of our furry kindred, the slowing down of activity for many two-legged and four-legged folk. We acknowledge and celebrate the great chain which links us all. We cast this Circle in fellowship with all life."
Under the silver light of the moon, Norda steps back into the circle and awaits the calling of the first quarter...

... Flidais, is dressed in a matching robe and cloak of rich brown.. figures of animals stitched along the hem in green seem to move of their own accord as she clicks her tongue and moves forward. Ramses, the thin black cat, meeps a reply and darts ahead to take his place facing East. As she moves to stand behind him another cat can be seen peeking from the folds of her cloak. Grainne watches shyly the many people gathered before darting back under the cloak at the sound of the muffled giggles coming from those who have finally noticed the small hamster riding proudly upon Flid's shoulder.
Smiling, Flid raises her arms and calls out...
** I give you greetings Guardians of Air, strong winds of wisdom and knowledge. You who bring us the scents of the world on your breath and give voice to the trees. Bless this circle with your protection and lift our souls in harmony with all creatures this night...so mote it be! **
Flidais lowers her arms and a wind begins to blow,lifting her hair and cloak and bringing a snowy owl to land upon the tree in front of her. As the owl arranges his wings the wind dies to a soft breeze and she chuckles as she feels Xerxes dart into the safety of her hair with a startled squeak. Flid returns to the circle with her furred friends to await the calling of the next quarter...

...Owl smiles a welcome to her feathered kindred as she turns outward from the circle facing South. Her gown of green swirls gently on the breezes called by Flidias. Lifting her arms in salutation she calls
"Hail Guardians of the South,Elements of Fire .. From the molten core I call thee, from the lightning bolt I charge thee, from the hearth fire blaze I summon thee, from the Wildfires of the plains, I invite thee .. Join us now in this time and place .. so mote it be."
A scent of burning leaves is wafted round the circle on a wisp of smoke, and Fire is here. .. Owl turns and waits for...

...Bronwyn, who smiles at Owl and steps forward. All turn and face west as Bron calls
"Hail, O Guardians of the Western gate. Come, watery ones of the singing seas! Come, Lords and Ladies of the deep currents! Bless this gathering with your presence tonight, and wash us with the wisdom and healing of the tides. Spirits of the West, the evening, the emotions, ebb and flow: Be Here Now."
An echo of the sonorous humpback whale call is heard around the circle as Western Ones join the sacred rites. Bronwyn steps back, water droplets appearing in her hair like a fairy's crown, and she awaits...

...As Cloud steps forward, there is a sober "mrrrp" frombetween her feet, and then, without any of us knowing exactly how it happened, she is wearing a small black tortoiseshell cat around her shoulders. Pyewacket goes well with the green-brown robe, and her reddish patches echo Clouds copper jewelry. She settles in between warm neck and warm cloak hood, and Cloud, who is used to these shenanigans, moves to the North without missing a beat. She places at the North point - carefully, so as not to dislodge purring Pye - a rock from her driveway, and a stray golden star that must have blown off a wreath last year and found its way into this years leaf pile. Paradoxical gifts of Northern powers, both of them, strong symbols of the solidity of the enduring earth and the changingness of sky. She stands a long moment, facing the powers of change and perpetuity, and Pye moves up to her head, staring her topaz stare into the eyes of the stars as Cloud gestures welcome to unseen guests. Eventually, Cloud remembers to speak:
*Hail, powers of the North, first earth of Earth, first star of Stars, time and no time, cauldron of lives: be with us tonight as we return again to the unending round of the sacred in ever changing space. Be with us through the shifts and turns of the season and the winds, the steady states and earthquakes of our lives. North star, our soaring wings; Earth, our grounded roots, be with us, be in us,Be here,now*.
Somehow, even with the cat on her head, Cloud manages to bend to touch the Earth before she again dances her hands to the sky and returns to her place in the circle.
Somehow, even with the human under her feet carrying on like this,Pyewacket retains her dignity. Together, they await...

...What was a faint grey mist has now turned into what seems like fog. It completely covers the remote area where many friends have gathered for a sacred rite- -'once a month when the moon is full'. It blankets everything- -except the circle where all have gathered. Many are now assembled here. The circle has been cast-we are now in a world between worlds. In a place where time and space are measured differently- -if indeed at all. DesertFox has also come. Walking toward the circle with his cat, Bridget-- -from out of the fog into the circle lit with many candles. Bridget jumps upon the altar and stares toward the North. DesertFox takes out a shiny athame and holds it toward the sky as he speaks out loud in a forest now silent:
"Our Lady of Blessed Enchantments, she who is known by many names the world over. Great Lady of birth and death and rebirth. Goddess of the green Earth which feeds all that breathes. You are Goddess of the sea tides which wash your shores. You are the Moon Goddess which rides the night sky, and whose phases are the rhythm of all that lives. You are the perfume of truth which is greater than mere knowledge, for you are the Perfume of the Music of the Spheres. Come! Come and bless this circle with your magick. Come! Come and bless all who have come this night to honor and worship you. Blessed Be.
The air still silent, DesertFox lowers his athame and takes his place in the circle, awaiting the invoking of the God.
Now Bridget, having spent a few hours on the altar meditating has chosen to leave an offering of catnip in the incense burner before returning to her spot in the circle.
The smoke rising to the sky, the sounds of wild cats in the forest are now heard bellowing...

...Deer moves towards the altar, drawn along by the ever-present Gwyna, a tabby-point Siamese whose familiar he's been for many a year now. She stops, as does he, before a silent miaow encourages Deer to proceed.
"Lord of the Hunt, Your who are also know by many names the world over. Horned one who is born and dies upon each turn of the Wheel. You who sired the world and who turn with it. Come and bless our circle with you strength. Hear all who come this night to worship You. So mote it be!"
Deer, about to return to his place, is again caught by Gwyna's miaow, reminding him not to forget. He opens the deerskin pouch about his neck and sprinkles a measure of amber dust, gift of an old elf-keeper, about the altar.
"May Your gifts find us all, Father. Now and in the turns to come."
With that, Red Deer and Gwyna return to their place in the circle to await...

...Norda turns full about, grateful for the deep cowl of her copper cloak as the wind starts to pick up. The Moon is fully risen and the senses of all here are attenuated to full awareness. Snowflakes have begun to fall delicately here, "whishing" through the air. Phinneas raises his white head and looks to the sky expectantly...a snowflake lands directly on his nose and he shakes it off with a disgusted mrrrrrrr sound. Norda speaks as she looks about the circle, at the familiar and newly welcome faces there. With a silent gesture, she thanks the guardians who watch over the quarter points and wordlessly signals the readiness for petitions...

...Owl steps forward with hands held open ... her head tilts back and she sticks out her tongue to catch the first taste of snow ... a giggle of delight bubbles up and soon all in the circle are catching and tasting the crisp fall of first snow. She walks to the altar, and places a sprig of rosemary .... a nodding softly she asks for help to create a dream.
"As pagans, we honor the earth. We have seen much of it abused, misused, destroyed. I've found a small mountain ... or it may just be a grandiose hill, but it is beautiful. Help me to make a place where the land is revered. Will and I are trying to fulfill a promise .. to save the land .. maybe we can't save all of it, but we'll try, one small piece at a time."
The melting snow flakes glisten in her hair, yet she feels only the warmth of the kindred around her. .. She steps back to the circle to wait...

...from the eastern mist we see moonListener, followed quickly by his companion of some 7 years, a white striped black dog who joyfully dances around the circle in playful communion with one and all. The coal dust which sifts from a small pouch tied to the dog's collar goes unnoticed as moonListener steps to the circle center clad with a simple homemade pentacle around his neck, and clothes to remind us of a time over 20 years ago, and a place far away: black rubber sandals, black shorts, and a plain black pajama jacket which falls to the ground as he approaches the altar. Oblivious to the cold, He places there some sticky rice bound in a bundle of fragrant lemon grass from a Vietnamese market, all tied with orange and black string...

...Flidais moves forward to stand at his side, and as she lays an intertwined wreath of rosemary, sweetpea and yarrow across his offering, moonListener produces a large athame, or maybe it's a sword... and as he stretches to raise it and hold it high unto to the sky, in solemn proud remembrance of all warriors taken, and fallen, he pauses for a tear, as Flidais calls out
"Bright Lady, I ask that you bless the souls of those who have died in willing sacrifice to protect others, and hold them close in your arms. For those that remain prisoners so far from home, fill their hearts with hope and courage and their souls with light, for we know their sacrifice is the greatest of all",
then moonListener is heard to say but two words: "SEMPER FI!" Slowly lowering the sword, he turns to Flidais who reaches up to wipe the tears from his eyes and gently caresses his face. Smiling, moonListener takes her hand, kisses it, and they return to the circle, joined shortly by their trusty canine friend Stripe, while in the distance other "dogs" can be heard to cry; until...

...Pyewacket mrrps for Cloud's permission, and receiving The Nod, pads forward with a small pouch of catnip in her mouth. She levitates (we think) to the top of the altar, and lays the catnip among the offerings, taking a moment to gaze topazly at the smiling Moon and accept Her blessing for the safety of herself and her feline associates (and peace among them, we hope) while her mommies are on the road. Satisfied, she looks like she might decide to stay right there and begin a bath; but Cloud *suggests* that it would be better to return to her side in the circle and await...

...Deer returns to the altar with Gwyna wrapped loosely about his neck. He is silent this moon, and simply leaves there a small besom woven with the desire for personal healing before returning to his place to await...

...Around the edges of the circle, the light catches the reflection of a set of cat eyes, big and wide. They turn and another set of burning orbs gazes at the circle, staring waiting. Another and Another, the circle is surrounded by eyes bright like the full moon peering above through the snow clouds. The cats move forward, they sit at the edge waiting, not one of them the same color.
Exotic and Persian faces flat, with wide owl eyes, and noses up between the eyes! They rustle and a woman moves slowly forward, wearing a teal robe with hood. She carries a staff. Beside her runs a black cat that as it moves reveals white undercoat. The cat's tail is high as it prances. The woman adjusts her belt where a cup, a pouch, and a knife in a sheath are visible. Barefoot she stands and asks.
"May I enter your circle? I have a petition for our Lady and Lord."
The circle agrees to let the stranger enter.Her eyes lift, she moves forward. The cats enter the circle maintaining a ring around the people. The other cats and dog join the newcomers in surrounding the humans.
"I am De la Chenaie, and these are La Nuit Blanche and my family of friends."
Taking out an oak leaf from her pouch, five fingered and wide. She sets it down upon the altar, and taking a wand from her sleeve, she and La Nuit touch the leaf and it burns.
"I honor my Lady and Lord. I am from Her womb and will return home to Her womb. She is the maker of tides, Empress of creation. May we always remember that we should not destroy what we cannot create. I ask that the gifts of winter be honored and appreciated. So mote it be."
With a motion to her friends, De la Chenaie is at the side of the altar. Her cat friends jostling for position as close as possible! And they wait...

...Bernis and Wren approach the altar, hands clasped over Bernis' shoulder, the wheels of Bernis' wheelchair crunching over the snow that is getting heavier on the packed dirt of this Circle. On Bernis' lap rides a stumpy-legged black and white tuxedo cat. Wren holds a carved wooden whistle in his loose hand. He shuts his eyes and lifts his face to the night sky, heedless of the falling snow. He gives his beloved's hand a squeeze and begins to play a lullaby tune--- this is his offering this night to The Goddess and The God. Bernis begins to hum a counterpoint in his rumbly voice and Merry Furfoot wriggles in delight at the sound of this magical music. The tune soon fades away, however, and they turn to resume their places in the Circle...

...Norda moves lightly in boot-shod feet towards the altar,nodding in turn to the many furry kindred that have joined us here in Circle. She bows in greeting to De la Chenaie, and smiles musingly upon Deer, DesertFox, Cloud, MoonListener, and all the others who have joined with her, lost in their own thoughts and praising the Divine in their own manner on this snow-and-moon laden night. Her own petition to the Lady is made clear when she lays a photo of a smiling auburn-haired woman in a sunflower-bedecked hat upon the altar. She speaks,
"Lady, you have brought me continued restoration of my health, I ask the same for my friend. She is still needed here to do great things in this continuum. I do thank you for the many good changes I have had in my life recently, but I ask for my sake and for the sake of her family that she will recover her health and her spirits."
Norda turns a full 360 about to take in all the animal friends who have come to this circle. She smiles at all of them and silently asks the Lord and Lady to guard them and their human companions. She takes a leather chew toy and a whale sticker from her pouch, and says,
"May those creatures who share our planet, who were here alongside us from the beginning, be given the universal respect they deserve ---homes for the abandoned, refuge for the persecuted, and restoration of the wild places of the world."
She picks up her beloved Phinneas and he nuzzles away the tears that have started to flow unbidden. She smiles into his white fur and steps back into her place to await....
Seeing no other petitioners, Norda moves slowly around the circle, hugging new and old friends alike, holding her hand out to the furry kindred present, and quietly dismissing the quarter spirits with silent thanks for their blessings.
"Our Circle is now open but never broken. Merry Meet and Merry Part, and Merry Meet Again."
Bernis leads the way back to the house and kitchen where a huge pot of chili, numerous bottles of elderberry wine and ginger beer, multitudinous bowls of animal chow, and thirty-three racks of warm homemade bread have been awaiting our return.