Was it her imagination or did the stream of sunlight really follow the leyline crossing the lake?

Now as the midday sun glistened on the lake, Nym' knew tonight's work was a time for healing, a new found sense of peace... a time to look to the protection of the earth, humanity and the innocents.

This was a place of overwhelming energy, on the dragons spine, the heart of a powerful leyline. A place filled with warmth, love and memory. On this site, a generation ago, her husband's father built this cottage of cedar and pine as agift to his wife.

Nym's attention wandered to the night before when she and her husband had first arrived... They had arrived at the lake late the night before... a place of comfort. The haunted call of the loons welcomed them while the crystal night air and crisp scent of cedar and pine where all the encouragement they had needed to launch the kayak.

With Morgan balanced on the bow they had silently paddled towards the stream of moonlight reflected upon the water. As the moon echoed on the water, Nym' considered the past few months of her life. Losses, hardship, illness, sorrow all seemed to be hitting her from every angle... Then the tragic events of September 11, an attack on humanity, a scattering of dreams, shock, sorrow, rage... a mix of emotions that numbed her, left her unable to feel. What did it all mean? This was the year of the snake according to the Chinese, a year associated with Kuan Yin, a Goddess sacred to the core of Nym's being.

Nym' remember that Kuan Yin is Goddess of Compassion, a dynamic force that needs to be directed. Yes directed, but not only outward, inward as well... for if we do not take care of ourselves, we can not take care of others and the beauty around us... It was then that she realized that the path she was following was not only that of the reflection of the Moon on the water... but that of the leyline a well.

Now in the midday sun Nyms' thoughts wandered to other rituals that had been performed on this lawn, but somehow it did not feel right for tonight's needs...

The Eagles cry shattered the silence, as the events of a few weeks ago scattered so many lives... circling and soaring he caught Nym's notice, as a dawn of insight took hold, her eyes drifted to the island across the lake. A few summers ago, they had spotted the first one in many years... over the past three years an ever-growing eagle population had made their home on the island... Yes... that was what the eagle wanted; tonight's workings would be in HIS realm.

The island wasn't accessible by road, water or air where the only means of crossing. As the eagles gathered by air, Nym' knew small boats would be needed for all others to reach this sacred spot.... The large boulders surrounding the island made it forbidding to large motorized boats... the peaceful pools among the rocks where home to the salmon that loved the cool spring fed lake. Knowing the kayak would not be able to hold the items Nym' needed for tonight, she loaded her supplies into the canoe, as Morgan eagerly took her place at the bow.

Headed for the island she remembered it's summer splendor... daisies, lilies and other wildflowers grew here freely. A playground for birds and small creatures… a place of peace, a place of calm. For those that doubted the existence of enchantment, the wonder of unicorns, the majesty of dragons, those who were blind to the beauty of nature... this place was hidden. Here not only did one know these wonders existed... they knew they were all that mattered. Fairy forts were scattered amidst the boulders, hidden by the tall pines; eagles nests protectively nestled in the arms of the trees above. Nym' felt at home with the rich darkness of the island.

Ancient memories filled her, I am sister to the flowers... to the mossy rock... the nearby stream... the old, towering pine... the butterfly and spider... I am sister to the Sky and the Earth

Standing, she says a prayer of thanks, and continues her journey knowing the day is quickly vanishing. A grove of birch trees in the heart of the island gave way to a clearing. A large boulder at the center would act as an altar. Wildflowers and a natural carpet of pine needles lent their fragrance to the air. Using the fire ring they had built last summer Nym' built a blaze of cedar, with sprigs of sage.

She looked surprised to see the fullness of the Moon appearing overheard, not realizing, once again... how lost in thought and time she was in the enchantment of the Maine Mountains she loved so much.

The day had quickly passed, the moon was full of hope and possibilities.

The others have arrived... Each person gathered picks a single white candle from the basket carefully laid out. As candles are lit by passing one flame to light the next Nymue' steps to the center and approaches the altar. She lights the candles, and incense, and sprinkles a pinch of salt into the chalice.

From beneath her cloak of midnight, she produces a bell and rod. Slowly walking around the circle three times; once as maiden, once as mother, once ascrone, she runs the rosewood rod around the base of the bell.

The sound builds slowly, hauntingly, spiraling, rising in pitch and volume while she says :

"Black spirits and white
Red spirits and gray
Hearken to the rune I say.
Four points of the circle, weave the spell,
East, South, West, North, your tale to tell.
East is for red for the break of the day,
South is white for the noontide hour,
In the West is twilight gray,
And North is black for the place of power.
Three times round the circle's cast.
Great ones, spirits from the past,
Witness it and guard it fast."

The song of the bells fades as gradually as it rose.

"I consecrate thee, a boundary between the world of Men
and the Realm of the Mighty Ones."

Nym' steps back to wait for Owl...

…Owl walks quickly to Nym and hugs her closely. "I know, dear Sister, how much you've been thru, and how far you still have to go at this time of the Crone... We are with you, and with the strength of the ancestors, you will find within you that which is needed." Taking a cinnamon scented broom from the folds of her robe, Owl begins to sweep the circle... brushing lightly the tips of the toes of each in the circle, Owl chants softly, asking each to repeat the chant as she sweeps by...

Above as below
Within as without
Cleanse the Circle
Thrice about
Me to you, and you to me
Ground... Center... So Mote it be!

As each joins their voice to the chant, their eyes watch the slow sweep of the broom as it passes before and around them. The slow, rythmic dance of the broom, touches a chord in each of us as things are put right within the Sacred Space.

Each begins to breathe in sequence as the chant continues, and the broom weaves before them... it is just and right to straighten out thoughts... it is just and right to clear our minds... it is just and right to prepare out work space so that we can rebuild.

As the broom combs the earth, there is a soothing... like rubbing the back of a child who has been ill. Like combing the hair of an aged mother, as she lies in her bed. Like washing the face of the father who is no longer able to do for himself. We are the healers... when we reach out to heal another, we are in turn healed within our own hearts.

This is the promise of our Gods and Goddesses. When you reach out, we will be there. When you reach out, we will be within... when you touch the earth, She will touch back...

…As Owl returns to stand before Nym, she hands her the broom... the chant stops, and a stillness holds the circle in a warm clasp of friendship, shared loss, and resolve...

"My friend, this broom tonite has been asked to do a powerful cleansing... it should not be used again... please place it in the fire to release all that it has picked up, and taken in it's branches. Let the Element of Fire cleanse the tears, and the sorrows, and the fears generated by the extraordinary happenings of these past weeks. As our sorrows, and burdens passed into the earth, let our resolve be to go forward, stronger, and more committed to a unity of spirit with all. So mote it be"

Owl steps back to her place in circle to wait for…

…Anais, who picks up the shell-bowl filled with lake water. Holding the shell, whose waters glimmer in the moonlight, before her, she speaks to the circle, "As the circle is cast, we recognize the year's final harvest. As the Wheel turns, we recognize the tomb within the womb. Touch the water from whence you are born, the water that sustains you."

Each celebrant, partakes of the water's touch, round the circle til complete. Anais gently brings the shellto rest on the altar, and - standing in the West - faces East:

"Waters wax and wane
eternal as spirit
present above, below
and within
Potable waters clear and pure
heart of blood and tears
We bid you, call you up
and welcome you to our rite."

Then walking to the North and she faces South, the direction from whence the fire comes. Fire... to Dare and to Will... from the heart of the Smith's forge... fire which destroys but gives new form.

"Through actions, through Will, without words... fire arises. The Keeper of the Flame is with us, around us. The Keeper of the Flame is within us... is us.

Anais steps back into the circle, and waits...

…Peg is in awe of these beautiful surroundings. Being on this island brings back beloved memories of "her" island in Lakeville, Massachusetts -- where she spent her summers walking through sun-baked pine groves - learning from her father the sacredness of the Earth. In a simple long black dress, a large handcrafted pentagram encrusted with amethyst stones on a chain around her neck, Peg steps forward. Holding in her hands a photograph of Earth, taken from space, she pauses for several moments, refelcting on the beauty of Earth, our fragile island home. She then moves slowly to the East and faces West.

"I call to thee, powers of Earth. We thank you for your gifts and teachings. Of all your myriad miracles, your gift of gravity teaches us to hold fast to what is good and right. Your cooperation with the Sun - rich earth and warmth - ensures that we are fed, and teaches us the importance of working together for peace and harmony. As you provide for all your living creatures, we learn the lesson of sharing your bounty with those less fortunate. We ask your blessings and guidance as we undertake this working for Healing, Peace and Harmony. May PEACE reign on Earth. So Mote It Be!"

Peg gazes into the darkness in the West - and gazes once more at the picture of our island home. She places the picture on the altar and steps back, awaiting...

…Beth steps forward from the circle of gathered friends in this place of peace and beauty and stands silently in the cool Maine night air. Her eyes seek out Nym's and, in the firelight, the tracks of past tears shed glisten brightly in their memories.

"Tonight we come together under this beautiful moon. We come together in sadness... to share, to understand, and to heal. We come together in hope, in love, in beauty, and courage. We come together to recognize the pain of the past, to embrace the strength and resolve and life-force that flows through us all, and to lift our faces, our hands, our hearts and our souls to this moon as we start our journies anew."

Slowly, Beth turns and lets her eyes touch each in the circle around her.

"Look before you! Our circle is surrounded by a grove of birch trees. Birch is the tree of new beginnings; of fresh starts, of hope and of dreams that push their way through our sadness, like the fragile green shoots push through the late winter snows to herald spring's return."

Beth smiles as their faces lift to watch the slender silver birch trees ringing the clearing begin to sway gracefully in the rising breeze from the north skies. The fire crackles and casts shadows that dance on the moving silver trees.

She turns and faces the wind with closed eyes.

"Spirits of the air, breath of new beginnings, please help us tonight as we begin our journeys of hope and healing. Help us move beyond our sadness and our losses. Help us embrace our strength and our courage. Help us clearly see our paths before us and give us wings to fly towards our dreams and visions!"

The leaves and the brances of the birch trees around the circle rustle and dance as the breeze from the north rises. From her rune pouch deep under the folds of her cloak, Beth pulls out two closed handfuls of her sparkling windrunes and holds her hands aloft to the moon above.

"Berkana is the rune of the birch tree. It symbolizes new beginnings, it symbolizes starting anew, it symbolizes turning the page in our lives to begin a new chapter. Spirits of the air, breath of new beginnings, Berkana of the birch tree, come to us!"

Beth's eyes and fingers open and the windrunes, all in the B-shape of Berkana, begin swirl slowly skyward like a hawk riding a thermal. Opalescent and shimmering, the tiny Berkana windrunes spiral with gradually increasing speed toward the tree tops and the moon beyond.

As they reach the height of the upper branches of the birch trees ringing the clearing, a puff of wind comes across the island from the water to the north, and the Berkana windrunes are blown, dancing and sparkling in the moonlight, into the tree tops above the circle of friends gathered below.

They settle, like a ring of glowing faery lanterns, on the leaves of the highest branches, and for a moment it appears as if the birch trees and the clearing have been crowned with a shimmering light.

Beth smiles and shuts her eyes once again.

"Spirits of the air, breath of new beginnings, come to us!"

The wind brushes through the grove strongly, and a gasp comes from the circle as from out of their upper branches the birch trees let loose their leaves and the glowing Berkana windrunes ride them downwards, scattering gently across the clearing and the upturned faces of those gathered below.

Beth opens her eyes and she closes her fingers around a birch leaf and its sparkling windrune that has landed softly on her arm.

Her eyes find Nym's once again and she smiles softly.

"New beginnings and the blessings of Berkana are upon us... so mote it be!"

As the night mists begin to grow and embrace the island... the magick of the night settles like a well worn sweater around all.

With the broom from Owl in her hand, Nym' moves back to the fire, Into a place between the worlds, in a time without time... " Spirits of the land, spirits unseen, old ones, wise ones, Ancestors of our spirit and ancestors of our blood... We ask your guidance, watch over this circle We ask you to help us in these trying times. Let us learn from your deeds... share with us the wisdom of the ages. We welcome and honor you."

Consigning the broom to the flames...

"As the Ageless Ones do in Annwn,
Each shade and light,
Each day and night,
Each moment in kindness,
Grant us Thy Sight.
All-seeing, all-hearing,
all-knowing may the magic be."

With tears of love and gratitude in her eyes Nym' returns to her place to await...

…Fern breaths deep the cold, crisp air, and sees the fog her breath makes as she exhales. She glories in the cool Maine night, yet is glad she chose to wear her cape over her gown.

The time has come to invite Morrigu to the gathering. Morrigu, who had been telling her QUITE clearly since the terrorism of the 11th of September that this was a "Morrigan Moment" in the course of history.

Striding to the center of the circle, she holds up a pomegranate and her athame, and starts to sing a song written by her friend Isaac Bonewits:

"O Morrigan, we call your name
Across the dusty years.
You speak to us, of blood and lust.
You show us all our fears.
You are a goddess, old and wise.
Of holy power you have no dearth.
Beneath your wings, black, red and white,
We learn of death and birth."

"You walk about, this ancient land,
Your hungers raw and clear.
You make the crops, grow rich and strong,
As well your geese and deer.
A flirting maid, a lusty hag,
A mother of great girth:
Without the touch, of your black wings,
We cannot heal the earth."

"You float upon, a blood red wave,
Of swords and spears and knives.
Your voice inspires, fear and dread,
That you'll cut short our lives.
You try the warriors', courage sore,
Our inner souls unearth.
Without the touch, of your red wings,
We cannot know our worth."

"You fly above, the silver clouds,
To Avalon's shining gate.
You lead the dead, along that path,
To meet our final fate.
The joke's on us, we find within,
A land of laughter and of mirth.
Without the touch, of your white wings,
We cannot have rebirth."

"O Morrigan, we call your name
Across the dusty years..."

"Morrigan, Blessings and Welcome!" With the final words, she impales the pomegranate on her athame, and the blood red juice spurts out and gushes to the ground.

She walks back to the ring of the circle, and awaits...

…as Red Deer sheds his heavy cape and moves from his own place among the circle of friends to their altar. Goosebumps move in waves over his back then down his chest and arms as Deer adjusts to the cold night air, and with each wave Deer re-experiences the song of Nymue's glorious bell. He stands, still in disbelief of all which has recently transpired... of all which now requires balancing. And he *knows* that his call tonight must match Ferns - that this is a ritual in which the Morrigu and Her mate shall meet rather early upon this turn of the Wheel.

Deer raises his staff high into the night sky and waits for some inspiration, wanting the Good God to place on his tongue all of the right words for this occasion... he waits, and nothing comes. Shivers and gooseflesh gone, Deer breaks into a cold sweat - fearful that, having foresworn the invocation he'd planned for tonight, no real inspiration would come. And then, as though fingers of the lightest touch played over strings on the Harp of the Seasons, Deer felt more than heard that which he needed. Yet there still were no words, only the presence of deepest blackness perfectly balanced with brightest white, both exploding in his head as though struck by the club which both takes life and restores it. The shock drops Deer to his knees where, before the bounding flames, he feels his own blood slowly mingle with that of the pomegranate upon the earth, and he whispers...

"Earth Father, Good God... come among us now. Swing Your club, play Your harp. Join with She who is your balance. We invite you among us knowing that You may bring justice to the fields of the dead, as well as sowing anew the seeds of trust, dignity and freedom."

His voice gone, but the flashes of darkness and light still pirouetting through his dead, Deer can do little more than remain kneeling by the fire - taking in what warmth it has to offer. Then, with the feeling of loving hands which offer support, he is helped to rise and return to the circle... now next to his dearest Owl. He is grateful for all those present upon whom he may lean, and wait...

…Nym silently steps toward the altar again. "These are troubled times... anger and sorrow cause unrest. There are those that feel justified in lashing out and causing terror in the hearts and lives of those that have done them no harm. Some that will direct hatred towards innocents. Those that will mistake calm and compassion for weakness. Blessed Mother Danu... I thank you my Mother for reminding me to deal incompassion and gentleness. You led me to the tool I needed."

Nym' removes a dazzling hand mirror from her robe. Something on a recent trip to town lured her into an antiquity shop. The sunlight reflecting off the silver mirror drew her attention away from troubling thoughts...

"You have spoken to my heart and taught me not to give power to the hatred and terror. Do not accept, simply return it."

The mirror was exquisite, a Victorian hand mirror that felt at home in her hand, it startled Nym' to discover the engraving on the back; "To N with Love and Guidance"... That the mirror was hers was of no doubt. Now on this night, she felt the new strength that had become hers.

Placing the mirror on the altar she looked to the radiant moon...

"Danu, brightest of Lights... Allow the shimmer of your light to carry back these energies, away from the innocent, and disperse, as you will. Reflect back the dark, protect and stand guard the earth and the children... turn the negative back to hope and energy to the innocent, Warmth and love to those suffering great loss, welcome and peace to those that have crossed to you. Now to the Mother who gave birth to each creature, Now to the Maiden who taught her people well, Now to the Crone, who comforts us in strength: Shield and guard your creatures from evil working; Be about the beginning and end of our days, Be giving us to sing the mysteries, In peace, in rest, in the Land of Youth, Where no tear shall be shed, where death comes no more. Where no tear shall be shed, where death comes no more. If it be your will My Mother... So Mote It Be"

Nym' steps back and looks at Suz with love and gratitude... "Now is a time for healing..."

…suz curses softly under her breath as she lugs her iron cauldron from the little boat and heaves it up toward the birch grove. 'i really need to quit smoking, lose weight and work out!' she sets the cauldron down softly so as not to disturb the others who are making their preparations, and lumps back down the path to her kayak to retrieve the baskets. she stops suddenly next to a human-sized boulder at the shoreline, shaken out of her grouchy, self-absorbed thoughts by the mesmerizing sight of the sun slipping down behind the mountains to the west, setting the face of the lake ablaze. she stands, transfixed, as symphony of brilliance resonates through the sky, thrilling senses that she didn't even know she possessed. as the flame cools to purple, she comes back to herself and realizes that she must hurry.

as she turns toward the boulder, the light of the sunset caresses it, and suddenly she sees the outline... pendulous breasts, large rounded belly, strong thighs. for an eternal moment the willendorf faces her on the shores of this enchanted lake, and the anxieties, the inadequacies, the worries and frailties and fears and traumas slip away.

suz remembers who she is... a daughter of her mother, who is the mother of all. she is just as she should be. and while she should keep aspiring to be more and better, she is also perfect and divine. a tear of recognition and gratitude slides down suz' face. she takes it on her finger and places it on the goddess' heart, and then the light moves and the vision is gone.

with a stronger step and a quieter heart, suz retrieves the baskets and hurries back to the grove, where the fire has been lit and the circle is forming. she hangs the cauldron over the aromatic flames of apple and oak wood, and fills it halfway with pure spring water. pottery bowls of herbs and vegetables are set around the fire, and suz touches each lovingly as she puts them down... each one selected for its healing virtues.

as nym begins to circle, the eerie song of the bell and rod rising to meet the moonlight, suz adds a pinch of this and a dash of that, letting the broth begin to simmer. then she joins the circle, feeling her herself enveloped and wrapped in the energies of the others, and feeling her own love and respect for them flow out of her and mingle.

when the time has come, suz steps back to the cauldron. she takes her big wooden ladle and stirs the cauldron 9 times sunwise. she takes a step back and lifts her face to the moon, now soaring in majesty over the birch grove with its shimmering dusting of berkana runes. 'lady of night! mother of transformation, and change, and life! look down upon us with favor as we work together this night, and send your healing light and love to strengthen and sustain us!'

she draws a pentagram over the cauldron, and turns back to the circle. 'dear ones, around the cauldron you will find bowls of herbs and vegetables. take the ones that call to you, and name them for ones to whom you wish to bring healing. infuse them with your energies and your strengths. fill them with your will to heal the wrongs that have unbalanced us, both as a nation and as individuals. let the healing begin.'

she moves among the bowls of barley and lemon balm, bay leaves and baby carrots, fragrant sweet annie and pungent garlic, ginseng and mesquite, red onion and white chunks of potato, rosemary and thyme, sea salt and coarsely ground black pepper. as she selects her contributions, she smiles at her friends. 'i had thought to do chicken soup... what could be more healing than that? but then i remembered that some of us are vegetarians, and decided that vegetable soup would do just as well.

i have containers for all of us to take what we do not eat home with us, to be the starter stock for meals to share with others we love. we will take this healing within ourselves this night, and we will pour some into the lake so that our strong magick can be carried all over the world. it is time for the healing to begin.'

suz' offerings go into the cauldron with cheerful plops and a welcoming waft of scent.

hands fragrant with herbs, suz steps back to let petitioners come forward... ... …Jess walks to the cauldron and takes a generous pinch of salt and a handful of potatoes:

"Soup needs salt. It needs flavor. It needs the catalyst that draws the other flavors together: the sweet carrots and onions, the pepper, the herbs and spices. So you add a little salt and taste it. Then a little more, then a little more. Until you find it's suddenly too salty!"

Jess casts the salt into the swirling, boiling water.

"The only remedy is to add potatoes, in the hope that they will absorb the salt and rebalance the broth."

Jess adds the potatoes and stirs.

"We have had such bitterness added to our lives in the last cycle: anger, fear, pain, depression. Look to the basics, the most comforting things, to restore balance: friendship, laughter, good food and drink. Stir it, taste it, add to the broth."

...Lyn steps forward. First she hugs Suz, with whom she has had many interesting discussions and even a friendly disagreement as of late. Lyn smiles then steps toward the cauldron.

She hesitates a moment as she ponders what to put into the pot and how best to state her intentions. With so much happening on so many levels, it is hard to put it into any semblance of coherancy. Finally, she picks a sprig of rosemary and handful of carrots. "Rosemary is often associated with love. I think it is a fitting herb right now. Love has always been something that people seek, mourn, hope for, and hurt for. It is probably one of the most powerful forces we hold within ourselves.

The best and worst that love can bring has been felt over the past few weeks. Those who have departed family and friends feel love's loss deeply now. And yet, despite the tragedy and terror... the best of us has come out. The love for our fellow man has been displayed all across the globe. People reaching out to help those in need. People uniting against the hatred that cut so deeply. A love for our country, despite it's faults. Flags are everywhere; cars, windows, mailboxes, on the front on bus grills, on hats, pins, and t-shirts.

On a personal level, it's become very clear recently how strong a force love really is. I've found that love can be a terrible, painful thing. But I've also found that love can literally save lives on various levels. I have found something that many people only dream of and I had never really hoped to find; a soul mate. I also have a wonderful life mate who accepts me and has supported me through things that would have made many people run. I lose sight of how much I have because I'm paying so much attention to how much I've lost. It was brought home very clearly to me recently how much I really have and how much it has given me. I'm sorry that I ever lost sight of that."

Lyn bows her head for a second and then tosses in the rosemary. She looks at the carrots wondering why she picked them. She has no concrete idea other than that it feels right. There's bits flying through her brain how they represent being centered and grounded, how they represent the bounty of the earth, how something that seems so lowly can have such a bright color and so much nutrition and of how symbolic that is. She looks helplessly around, shrugs, and puts them in the cauldron. She says simply, "They feel like they needed to be added." She adds one more thing; a last bit of basil that she had grown herself and dried. "In memory", she says, as she steps back into the circle...

…Pombagira comes forward to make a petition and an offering. What strikes her most fully is the mix of scents--herbs, foods, trees, salt air--healing and comforting, triggering good memories.

She adds a bag of rice to the cauldron. Seems it's about the only food anyone of any age can eat without getting an upset tummy. She feels the Lord and Lady in their gentlest aspect, fairy-tale figures, protective and wise, waiting at the core of the forest for those who have the courage to walk among the dark trees.

"i ask again for the safety and health of my little girl, and of all the newcomers to the earth in this time. Let our fears and anger, confusion and grief, not breed more of the same in them, but give them the lesson that people can come through all this and be better for it. Lord and Lady, protect the children of all the world."

she steps back into the circle and waits for...

…After pausing to give Pomb an encouraging hug, Morgan approaches the cauldron and gently adds some of her home-grown (and organic!) tomatoes, which give even more color to the delicious-smelling brew. She thinks what an excellent idea this "collective cookout" was, for food is the great unifier.

She stirs the mixture in the pot for a moment, collecting her thoughts. This month will perhaps be one of the most important of her life, depending upon the outcome of an important meeting she must travel a long distance to attend on the 15th. She looks up at the glowing orb in the sky and says, "Lady, if it be Your will, I know that my pursuit of justice will be successful. All along I have felt Your inspiration, and I know You will be with me."

After another short pause, she continues, "All my humble thanks to You, Lord and Lady, for seeing my daughter safely through childbirth, and for my beautiful granddaughter Jayde! We knew from the first look into her eyes that this is not her first time here. I look forward to watching this little wise one grow.

"I also add my voice to the many others who have prayed for guidance for those whose lives were cut short in the terrorist attacks, and strength for those loved ones who must continue their lives without them.

"Last, but not least, please give extra healing and protection to Pombagira's little Sydney, and let her recover completely. Thank you, oh Mother and Father, for your protection and blessings."

Returning on silent feet back to her place in the circle, Morgan watches...

Owl stands quietly in circle with her arm around Reddeer, nurturing him, and also receiving the warmth of his body, to help relieve the coldness she's felt in her bones since 9/11. With a brief hug, she disentangles herself and walks quickly to cauldron, another oasis of warmth.

Stirring the broth, adding a pinch of sassafrass, watching the chunks of vegetables bobbing and swirling... the surface of the soup bubbles and circles... and Owl thinks "how much this looks like our world right now a maelstrom of emotions... fear, pride, uncertainty, resolve... bits and pieces of memories and awareness... each of us adding those spices and vegetables which taste best to us.

I have no petition... my wants are too great to express specifically... revenge or justice... sorrow for the loss of lives and innocence... joy for the fact that the losses could have been so much greater. Pride and awe at the resolve from so many to help, and rebuild... Anger and fury at those who caused this terror, and those who tried to take advantage of the situation for their own benefit.

Thankfulness that so many of her relatives and friends were spared... remorse and guilt that she can feel relieved at that. And finally... the words come...

Mother, Father... help us all to come to Balance. And her tears fall... adding to the broth of the caudron.

Owl retreats to her place in Circle, and this time, it is Deer who offers nurturing.

A breeze off the lake stirs Jess' hair as she comes back to the task at hand. She signals a guitar player who begins to strum soft chords. Looking around the circle, Jess sings:

"When you´re weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all
I´m on your side, oh, when times get rough
And friends just can´t be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down"

As she sings, Jess walks around the circle, clasping hands at random and joining them to their neighbors.

"When you´re down and out
When you´re on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you
I´ll take your part, oh, when darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down"

Voices, both strong and timid, join in with each repetition of the chorus. Jess is back in the circle's center. She looks up and sings

"Sail on silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
Oh, if you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind."

The last note fades across the lake. Jess looks back to the circle and thinks to the wider circle of country-mates and world-mates. It takes two deep breaths to work past the lump in her throat. She hugs Nym and returns to her place in the circle...

…Nymue looks around at all who have gathered here this night. Overwhelmed with love, respect and gratitude for all... the tears fall freely from her eyes. This is a circle that will live on in her heart and memory. The air is growing crisp in the New England night. The time has come.

A sense of timeless circles exists here, of primitive beginnings and ancient times gone before. A love unending in this night. The circles of the trees, the circles of our lives, the circles yet to be.

Those gathered, join hands under the illumination of the night, moving in a spiral as a chant grows...

"Lady spin your circle bright

Weave a web of silver light

Earth and Air and Fire and Water

Shining within."

The clouds that had been swirling like the poignant surface of a cauldron parted. The illuminated surface of the Mother in all her fullness shows through. Nym' can feel the cone created here, and sense its power being drawn through her fingertips, down into her core of being.

"We thank the God and Goddess for their attendance, as we gathered here in our love for them. We offer thanks to all spirits for watching over and guarding this circle. Revered Ones of Infinite Wisdom. We Thank you for joining our circle tonight! Thank you for the powers you bring. Draw in the mist that surrounds us all and dispense it back into a growing energy in the universe. May the Grace of the Goddess and God go in our hearts. Hail and Farewell"

After a moment she kneels placing palms to the ground, the outside world slowly regaining its dominance, as the power created here is returned to the earth.

"By the earth that is her body
And by the air that is her breath
And by the fire of her bright spirit,
And by the living waters of her womb,
This temple is now cleared,
The circle is open, but never shall be broken.
So Mote It Be"

"The circle is no more."

As the others mixed and gather to nurish themselves from the welcoming soup in Suz's cauldron, Nym' moves to the edge of the lake.

The night air seems to have been warmed by the trust, hopes and dreams of those gathered. Was the night really warmer or was it just the fires of passion that warmed her heart?

Nymue' stood on the shore gazing across the lake. The brilliance of the moon danced across the water as the mist begins to receed. It brought to her mind a common phrase; " As different as night and day", BUT were they? The moonlight played across the lakes surface just as the morning sun had. Different?? Perhaps not! Maybe just a looking glass image of each other, the same yet distinct... as are the many cultures of our world.