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The Burrow, North Boambee Valley (2025)

31/10/2025

Merry Meet and a Blessed Beltaine my darlings!

Here at The Burrow in Coffs Harbour the air is no longer merely warm but thick and breathing, like something old has stirred beneath the soil. The jasmine of early Spring has retreated now, leaving the roses to reign. Their petals swell open like flushed lips and secret hearts, wet with the recent rain. The days stretch longer and the nights soften like a sigh. Even the sea itself is changing. The ocean currents along our coast have begun to warm, sending soft bodied waves rolling to shore with a gentler touch than Winter could ever allow. The salt water begins to hold heat now, like an embrace, calling swimmers and spirits alike. The tide speaks in warmer whispers. The winds shimmer as though carrying names we once knew but have forgotten. And we stand now upon the trembling edge of Beltaine Eve, the ancient festival of fire, desire and awakening.

This holy tide was known to the Celtic ancestors long before the shadow of any church fell upon the earth. Before scripture, before sermons, there was only the land and the listening. Beltaine was the Great Marriage of Goddess and God, a consummation not symbolic but real as heat, real as pulse. Their union moved through the world like a shiver of wildfire. The earth trembled. Sap surged like blood. Every creature stirred with restless need. It was the moment when life stopped sleeping and began burning.

Great Beltaine Fires once roared atop the high hills, red and wild, calling the season forth. The smoke wound itself around the living and the beasts so they would be guarded, strengthened, consecrated. Lovers leapt the flames together so the year would remember their names. Dancers twined beneath the stars, barefoot and unashamed, their laughter carried to the ancestors who watched from the dark. Those fires did not simply warm bodies. They purified souls. They opened the hidden door between worlds.
And that door, yes that shimmering and perilous veil is thinner now than breath. Tonight and tomorrow the worlds touch. The Faerie Folk walk among us with quiet feet. Not the softened playthings of children’s stories but the true fae. The ones with eyes like wet moonstone and smiles that do not reach their gaze. The ones who move like they are remembering a dance older than language. Some luminous as pale dawn mist. Some sharp as bramble thorn. Some who leave blessings like flower crowns on pillows. Some who sit cross legged at the foot of your bed and watch you breathe.

There are Seelie fae who walk softly, who heal, who bring dreams, who coax blooms to unfurl.
There are Unseelie fae who slip along the edges of shadow and silence, who can twist a wish if spoken carelessly.
There are those who are neither court nor kin to any rule but their own.

Do not call them lightly.
Do not mock them ever.
Do not offer what you are not willing to lose.

This is the night to leave offerings at the garden threshold where the shadows gather. A cup of honeyed milk. A crumb of bread. A whisper of respect. And then step back. Do not watch. Do not wait. Let the offering simply be.

At The Burrow they are very near. The roses feel alive with names. The lavender hums even when no bees dance above it. The vines climb without hands. The grass gleams too green. The morning birdsong rings nearly unbearable in its richness. Baby birds. Baby lizards. Baby creatures everywhere like living prayers stitched into the world. Life has tipped her chalice and spilled the golden season across the earth.

This is a season of love yes but not only the gentle kind. This is the love that aches and grows and burns. The love of existence. The love of rising into oneself. The love of daring to become vast. This is the remembering that we are not embers. We are bonfires.

Enchantment: A Beltaine Spell for Love and Renewal

You will need a pink or red candle, fresh rose petals gathered with reverence preferably from your own garden, a pinch of dried basil, a spoon of honey and a bowl filled with clean water. At sunset (any day over the next two weeks) place the bowl before you and lay the rose petals upon the water’s surface like prayers. Touch the honey to your lips that sweetness may return or remain. Sprinkle the basil into the water while whispering your desire into the rising scent of leaves and bloom. Light the candle and gaze into the dancing flame as though gazing into your own awakened heart. Let the candle burn as you breathe the fire into your bones. When finished pour the water and petals at the roots of a flowering plant so the earth may carry your wish into being.

May your Beltaine burn warm and unafraid.
May the fae pass your home as wind through silk, leaving only blessing behind.
May the roses open to your longing.
And may the ocean and the fire and your heart rise together as one.

Blessed Beltaine my darling ones from The Burrow where the veil ripples like dark velvet parted by unseen hands and the night waits gently for you to step through, an may the peace of the Goddess be forever in your heart.

Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

21/10/2025

My dearest Magickal friends. Tonight, beneath the velvet hush of Spring’s deepening night, the New Moon in the Cardinal Air sign of Libra rises at 11:25pm, veiled in silken shadow and whispering her quiet magick across the gardens and hearths of those who listen. The year is quickening now, moving with the restless beauty of the season. The jasmine has faded, yet the roses tremble with life, and the faeries are restless in their green chambers, readying their wings for the great dance of Beltaine soon to come. We are called now to balance between what we desire and what we are becoming, and to bring stillness and sweetness into our homes as the winds of Spring stir every curtain and thought.

The New Moon quincunx Saturn speaks of discipline and discomfort entwined like ivy around an ancient post. Saturn, the old teacher, presses his cold palm against our chests, asking if we are ready to bear responsibility for the beauty we dream of. Under this aspect, the faeries of stone and root awaken, those who live in the cracks of the old walls and foundations. They remind us that real harmony is not always soft; it is earned through effort and steadiness. If you have felt uncertain or weary, know this Moon demands patience and commitment, the quiet kind that turns chaos into ritual and duty into grace.

The New Moon quincunx Neptune drifts through the veils of mist and longing. Neptune is the ocean dreamer, pulling at our hearts like tides that never sleep. The faeries of mist and reflection rise under this aspect, glimmering along the dew laden grass, whispering promises and illusions. Beware the shimmering fogs of fantasy now, for what you see may not be what it seems. Yet if you stay still, if you listen, these same fae will guide you gently toward inspiration, intuition, and art. This is the magickal realm of imagination purified by truth, a time to trust your dreams, but not to drown within them.

Fixed Star Izar, in the constellation of Bootes the Herdsman, shines above this New Moon with a curious dual nature, one of love’s yearning and the fire of beauty bound to conflict. The Herdsman, the great celestial guardian, walks through the stars with his staff of light, keeping the balance between chaos and creation. Izar itself is known as “the veil”, a binary star of golden and sapphire fire, reflecting both harmony and tension. Its light reminds us of the faeries of twilight, those who dwell in thresholds between one world and another. Under Izar’s watch, our desires are illuminated and tested. What we seek to bind ourselves to now must be worthy of us, not born of vanity, but of soul.

Altogether, this New Moon in Libra whispers of equilibrium, of beauty restored through reflection and effort. It is not the easy kind of balance that floats like blossom on the breeze; it is the weighty, exquisite kind that takes shape through choice, forgiveness, and self knowledge. The faeries of the household and garden are especially active now, eager to assist any witch who clears her home, freshens her altar, and tends her hearth. As the veil to Beltaine thins and the year gallops toward its bright crescendo, let your Spring cleaning become an act of devotion. Polishing mirrors, sweeping corners, shaking curtains as though to banish stale thought and summon peace. The fae adore order and light made by mortal hands, and they will bless you for it.

Enchantment: For this New Moon, gather a silver candle, a sprig of lavender for calm, a pinch of pink salt for purification, and a few rose petals for beauty and love. Place them together in a shallow bowl beside an open window where the night air moves gently. Light the candle and whisper:
“Moon of balance, dark yet fair,
Bring peace to heart and home and air,
By faerie grace and mortal will,
Let beauty bloom and time be still.”
Let the candle burn while you tidy or polish a single space in your home, however small. The act itself is the spell. Movement made sacred beneath the Libran Moon. When the flame fades, scatter the rose petals at your threshold to welcome sweetness into your days.

So, my darlings, as the shadows of Spring lengthen and the scent of Beltaine draws near, breathe deeply of this moment. The Moon is new, the world is quickening, and you, bright, wild, weary creature, are being reshaped in love and magick.

Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

06/10/2025

My darlings. The Full Pink Moon rises tomorrow, Tuesday the 7th of October at 2:47 in the afternoon, burning through the golden sky in the Cardinal Fire sign of Aries. Though here in the South it crowns our bright Spring, the Celtic Ancestors called this the Pink Moon for the dusky wildflowers that opened across their meadows at this time of year. It was the Moon of renewal, of fresh colour after cold greyness, and the faeries danced across the thawing fields scattering petals like blushes of new life. In our Southern Spring, we may borrow their laughter for the rosebuds now unfurling and the quickening hum of bees. The air itself feels younger beneath this light.

This Full Moon stands beneath Mercury square Pluto, sharpening the mind like a blade and forcing hidden truths to the surface. It is a whisper from the underworld, fierce and unstoppable, where words become spells and secrets turn to keys. The fae are drawn to such power and may whisper riddles through the leaves, revealing what was buried long ago, so listen with your heart and your courage alike.

Mercury forms a quincunx to Venus, creating a tension between heart and thought, between what we feel and what we can express. Love and communication stumble like mismatched dancers under the gaze of watchful sprites. Yet if one listens carefully, their laughter shows the way through, teaching us that beauty and reason can share a single breath if we let them.

Another quincunx ties Mercury to Neptune, fogging logic and letting dreams take root in speech. It is the aspect of glamour and illusion, of faerie glamours that shimmer and then vanish. Be careful not to promise what your spirit cannot hold, but dare to imagine what your waking self cannot yet name.

Uranus sextile Neptune electrifies the soul. It is the quicksilver dance between vision and invention, as if every fae light that flits between stars holds a new idea. The human mind under this influence is open and electric, ready to taste revelation. The dreamer becomes the pioneer, and the pioneer finds poetry in the unknown.

Uranus trine Pluto is a wild rebirth. Fire meeting the deep earth, the phoenix stirring under stone. The Old Ways shake and split, but beneath them rises a new enchantment. The faeries of change hover around this flame, their wings like molten glass, reminding us that destruction and creation are lovers.

Neptune sextile Pluto drapes the world in mystery. It deepens every dream, blurs every boundary between living and spirit. The veils thin not only at Beltaine and Samhain but at any hour when these two outer lords touch hands, and their meeting now opens a hidden door. Expect to sense the unseen. Faerie eyes in the dew, ghosts in the candle’s reflection, ancient echoes in running water.

High above, the Constellation Andromeda glimmers, the chained maiden who became a Queen among stars, teaching us that constraint may yet lead to sovereignty. The Fixed Star Alpheratz shines at her head, the freedom star, marking release from confinement. It reminds us that even when bound, our spirits remain vast. The faeries love her light, for it gleams with courage and grace under duress.

Altogether this Full Pink Moon burns with awakening. It is the Moon of self assertion, the stirring of courage, the quickening of the will. Its fire calls us out of hesitation and into living colour, into action and passion. Yet it also warns of pride, impatience, and words spoken too sharply. The fae hover around our tempers, laughing at our sparks, and urge us to turn that flame to creation rather than quarrel. It is a night for dancing barefoot on the earth, for calling your name into the wind until it answers.

For those who wish to work with this light, here is a spell for courage and renewal beneath the Full Pink Moon.

Gather a single rosebud, a sprig of fresh lavender, a drop of honey, and a pink candle. Light the candle and set the flowers before it. As you breathe, feel the faerie folk drawing close. Not to grant, but to mirror the beauty that is already yours. Drip the honey onto the rose and speak softly:

'By the flame and the bloom and the sweetness of Spring
By the song of the fae on a silver wing
I call my courage, I claim my fire
To live, to love, to speak desire.'

Chant the verse three times while the candle burns, then leave the rosebud by your door as an offering to the faeries of dawn. When you wake, take its scent into your heart, for it will be the scent of your own brave rebirth.

And so the Full Pink Moon rises, its fire spilling across The Burrow and beyond, awakening every sleeping petal and half forgotten dream. May its light find you, my darling friends, and remind you that the world itself is enchanted when you choose to see it so.

Tori, The Burrow Witch
###ooo

22/09/2025

Good evening, my beloveds, from my little Burrow where the dawn this morning was soft and strange, as if the world itself were holding its breath. This morning at 5:54am we were wrapped in the shadowed embrace of the New Moon in Libra, veiled by the magick of a partial solar eclipse. It felt as though the air itself was charged, as though the great cosmic scales were being reset before my very eyes. Libra calls for harmony, but this is not the harmony of still waters. This is the harmony of perfect tension, the bowstring drawn tight before the arrow flies, the moment before transformation truly begins.

The New Moon opposite Saturn weighed heavy like the cool hand of fate, pressing responsibility upon our shoulders, asking us to answer for where we have strayed and to commit to the path ahead.

Mars quincunx Saturn was a splinter under the skin, a restless hum that will not be ignored, demanding patience while every bone in the body cries out to act.

The New Moon semisextile Mars breathed a subtle flame beneath the surface, like coals smouldering, urging quiet, careful movement. A single deliberate step rather than a heedless leap.

The Irritation Triangle of Moon, Mars and Saturn prickled like bramble thorns, impossible to ignore, asking us to transform irritation into insight, discomfort into resolve.

Uranus trine Pluto shimmered like starlight on deep water, promising liberation through upheaval, revolution through the breaking open of what has grown too rigid.

Saturn conjunct Neptune summoned dreams with weight, visions that might be given flesh if we are willing to sculpt them with our own hands, turning mist into stone.

Fixed Star Markeb lent the energy of safe passage, the sense of an unseen keel steadying us as we cross storm dark seas toward the dawn.

This New Moon eclipse is a liminal doorway, a place where the old skin is shed, where the threads of fate are cut and rewoven into patterns that better fit the soul we are becoming.

And now we walk toward the light of the Spring Equinox, Ostara’s dawn, which will rise over us tomorrow, Tuesday 23rd September. The days and nights stand equal, hand in hand, just for a moment before the scales tip toward warmth, light, and awakening. The Goddess Ostara walks the fields once more, her feet scattering blossoms, her hair scented with the perfume of growth. In my own garden the jasmine has had its last sigh, but my lavender is in flower and the rosebuds are swelling, and the air is filled with the promise of the season to come. The fae are laughing again, dancing between the stems of lavender, brushing past the opening roses, and leaving their mischief on the air.

Tonight, as the stars prick the sky, I shall cast a spell for Ostara’s blessing. (Anytime over the next two weeks are fine) Take a white egg, pure as the first light of dawn, and paint it with the green of new shoots. Place three fresh rosebuds around it, and scatter sprigs of lavender like faery offerings. A little bowl of honey for sweetness, a small vessel of fresh water from the garden, and a candle of pale green or blush pink for life renewed. Light the flame and whisper this charm three times as the candle burns:

Come, fair Ostara, dawn of the year
Bless my home and all I hold dear
Awaken love, let sorrow cease
Bring to my hearth your light and peace
Let the candle burn as you breathe the scent of the lavender, feeling her blessing curl through every corner of your house and every hidden corner of your heart.

The wheel turns, my dear ones. The darkness falls away and we are reborn.

Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

07/09/2025

My dearest ones, I write to you now by lamplight in the Burrow, the fire crackling low and the air so heavy with the perfume of jasmine that it seems the very walls breathe it in. The vines have burst into riotous bloom, their white stars spilling over the fence and winding round the windows, their fragrance sweet and heady as a spell of Spring itself. When I stepped barefoot into the garden at 4:08am this morning, Monday the 8th of September, the whole place was drenched in that intoxicating scent. The Full Worm Moon swelled above in Pisces, yet she was no gentle silver orb but cloaked in blood, veiled by the shadow of a total lunar eclipse. I felt the jasmine stir around me as though even the flowers were watching, leaning towards her crimson glow. The sea in the distance hushed her roar, the fae whispered among the blossoms, and I stood beneath that scarlet sky knowing I was witness to a night of endings and awakenings.

The Worm Moon, as the ancient Celts named her, is the Moon of soil and stirring life, of worms rising in the dark wet earth as the ground softens with Spring. Here in our Southern land she comes to us as herald of renewal, proof that beneath Winter’s cloak life has already been weaving. And yet eclipsed, she carried more than promise. She was a reckoning, a doorway of shadow, where what has been bound must be released, what has lingered too long must be dissolved, and what is meant to be reborn waits beneath the soil of our lives.

Her quincunx to Venus I felt in my very chest, like an ache threaded with sweetness. Venus, ever the goddess of beauty, longs to shower us with love and harmony, yet under this aspect and in the blood shadow of eclipse her gifts are unsettled. We may crave affection yet feel it slip beyond reach, doubt our worthiness, or find desire tangled in thorns. I felt it keenly as I stood in my jasmine scented garden. The yearning, the misalignment, the test of the heart. And yet in that test lies magick. For love stripped of illusion becomes truer, beauty found not in perfection but in compassion endures. Venus here whispers that it is in the shadow that we learn the depth of our capacity to love.

Mars square Jupiter thundered through the eclipse like fire meeting storm. I felt its restless crackle in the night air, urging recklessness, daring me to leap without thought, to speak without temperance. It is an aspect of danger. Rash actions, quarrels, excess, the spell cast in haste that consumes its caster. Yet within it lives immense strength, a warrior’s courage magnified, a fire that can break cages and burn away stagnation. The Moon’s blood red veil magnified it all, and I knew the choice was mine: to let its force scatter me into chaos, or to shape it with intent into change that matters.

The Magick Triangle, Venus, Neptune and Pluto in their Minor Grand Trine glimmered like a hidden sigil upon the sky, weaving across years from July 2025 to June 2028. I could feel its hum like a charm stitched into the air. Venus offers beauty and desire, Neptune gifts vision and dream, Pluto demands death and rebirth. Together they form a triangle of both blessing and peril. In its light, art may heal, passion may transform, and magick may create wonders. In its shadow, we may fall to obsession, illusion, or destructive desire. This Blood Moon awakened the first threads of its weaving, reminding us that the years ahead will be shaped by how we use this enchantment.

Above me the constellations seemed alive. Eridanus, the great celestial river, flowed across the heavens like a dark watercourse, carrying souls toward the ocean of spirit. Achernar gleamed at its end, a beacon promising light after the meandering, wisdom at the close of wandering. And there too was Phoenix, wings ablaze, eternal bird of fire, rising from her ashes. She crowned this eclipse, reminding me that nothing is truly lost, that all endings feed beginnings, that what falls away will rise again more radiant.

The meaning of this Worm Blood Moon in Pisces is as vast and deep as the tide itself. Pisces, sign of dreams and dissolution, of compassion and spirit, dissolves the boundaries of self. The Worm Moon whispers of fertility and renewal, yet the eclipse demands release and transformation. Venus unsettles our loves, Mars and Jupiter clash in fire, the Magick Triangle hums with long enchantment, Eridanus carries us onward, Achernar lights our path, and Phoenix ensures resurrection. It is a Moon of shadow and rebirth, asking us to trust the unseen, to release with courage, and to surrender to the river that carries us home.

If you feel her call, here is the spell I shall cast at the Burrow.
Take a white candle for purity, a red apple, a sprig of rosemary, and a bowl of spring water left beneath the open night sky. Light the candle. Slice the apple to reveal the star within and place it beside the flame with the rosemary. Dip your fingers into the water and anoint your brow, speaking: “As the river flows, as the phoenix rises, as the worms stir in the soil, so too do I release and renew.” Eat a slice of the apple to take into yourself the sweetness and the seed, the promise of cycles unbroken. Burn the rosemary in the flame and let the smoke curl into the air, then drop the ashes into the water. When the candle burns low, pour the water onto the earth and let the soil drink your offering.

And now, my darlings, as I sit by the hearth with the jasmine scent weaving through the rafters and the tang of woodsmoke in the air, I feel the echo of the eclipse drumming in my veins. It was not a gentle Moon, but she was true. She stripped us bare and offered us rebirth. May you too find courage to release what is finished, to trust the flow of the river, to breathe the perfume of renewal, and to rise in your own fire. From my jasmine wreathed cottage by the sea to your own sacred spaces, I send love, magick, and blessing beneath this crimson sky.

Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

23/08/2025

My beloved ones, tonight the skies descend into a velvet hush as the New Moon gathers her shadowed cloak in Mutable Earth Virgo. At 4:06 this afternoon, Saturday 23rd August, the last New Moon of Winter will breathe her secrets into the stillness. She is no ordinary moon, but a Black Moon, the rare third dark sister in a season of four, a hidden enchantress whose face is veiled deeper than the ordinary dark. The ancients whispered that such a Moon does not simply close the old cycle but pries open secret doors, summoning spirits from beneath the roots of time, inviting us to walk where mortals seldom tread. The night will be heavy with silence, yet threaded with whispers, the kind only the Fae and the wise will hear.

The Sun square Uranus is like a lightning fork cast into the marrow of the soul. It shatters complacency, cracks the shell of routine, and floods us with sudden vision. In its light we might discover wild liberation, revelations sharp and pure as crystal, and the courage to rise from our own ashes. Yet every blessing has its curse. This same strike can scatter us into chaos, leaving hearts trembling, plans sundered, and paths torn from beneath our feet. In the Black Moon’s cauldron, this aspect brews shocks of fate, gifts that feel like curses and curses that disguise their gifts.

The Sun quincunx Saturn presses iron into our bones. It demands weight, discipline, and the acceptance of burden. At its highest, this aspect forges patience and endurance, laying the stone of long roads that outlast us. But its darker echo is heavy, cloaking us in delays, suffocating duties, and the chill fear that we may never be enough. In this Black Moon’s dim flame, Saturn sits like a stern elder at the threshold, insisting we prove our worth before we may cross into Spring.

The Sun quincunx Neptune is a silken veil of glamour and deception. It casts a dreamscape across our path, shimmering with otherworldly beauty, reminding us of compassion, longing, and visions that dissolve the sharp edges of Winter’s sorrow. But its shadows are deep, luring us into illusion, drawing us towards false prophets, or binding us in lethargy and escape. Within this Moon’s black veil, Neptune’s waters are fathomless. Drink carefully, lest you forget which way is the shore.

The Sun quincunx Pluto is the rumbling of the underworld itself. It calls from caverns of bone and forgotten flame, urging us to die to what is rotting and be reborn. In its lightless blessing, we are given power, intensity, the ability to burn away the false and to claim the hidden jewel of transformation. But its curse is as sharp as a serpent’s bite. It tempts us into obsession, control, and battles for dominance that consume our spirit. Tonight, beneath this Black Moon, Pluto’s gaze is unblinking, and he will have his sacrifice, whether willing or torn from our grasp.

Fixed Star Regulus, the Heart of the Lion, pulses in the heavens, lending its regal fire to this Moon. It blesses with nobility, courage, and sovereign light, yet carries the warning of ruin through vengeance or pride. To take Regulus’s gift, one must hold it gently, as a flame that burns the arrogant. In the depths of this Black Moon, Regulus glows as a secret ember for those who dare to lead with humility, strength tempered with grace.

The long weaving of Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto in Minor Grand Trine has been a tapestry of quiet but inexorable change, and now this New Moon knots the strands into a Model Aspect Pattern, a sacred geometry in the sky. This is the loom of the Fates, where rebellion, vision, and transformation are braided into a design that touches both the mortal and the unseen. Such patterns bring wonder and danger. They open portals, but they also stir forces too great for frail hands. Under this Black Moon, the very air hums with destiny’s weave.

As a whole, this New Moon in Virgo, last of Winter and rare Black Moon, is a crossing place, a dark river between death and birth. Its blessing is profound: liberation from false skins, noble strength, the weaving of vast powers into form, the promise of rebirth as the Earth herself begins to stir. Its curse is equally potent: upheaval that rends our stability, burdens that break the spirit, illusions that lead us astray, shadows that grip and will not let go. This Moon is a black mirror of the soul, showing what must be surrendered and what waits beyond the gate. It is both a poison and a potion, both a death and a dawning.

And for those who would dare to harness this Black Moon’s spell, gather rosemary for sharp vision, sea salt for the breaking of chains, dried jasmine to carry Winter’s death into Spring’s promise, and a silver coin to purchase the blessing of unseen guides. Place all within a dark bowl of pure water, and under the night sky lift it in your hands. Whisper thrice the truth of what you would shed, and thrice the seed of what you would summon. Then pour the water at the roots of an ancient tree, leaving the coin as tithe for the spirits. In doing so, you trade with the hidden powers, offering the past to the roots and calling the future up through the branches.

May the Black Moon’s shadow swallow what is false, and may its silence breathe enchantment into what is true. Walk gently, my darlings, for tonight the Fae and the Fates are close, and the night belongs to them as much as to us.

Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

08/08/2025

My darling ones, it is the eve of the great Winter's ending breath, and the wind carries whispers through the silver bare branches that the Moon of Ice is rising once more. She will bloom in her frozen fullness tomorrow, Saturday the 9th of August, at 5:55pm, in the sign of Fixed Air Aquarius, and oh how the ancestors once knew her power. This is the last Full Moon of Winter, when the bones of the Earth still sleep but the dreams of Spring begin to stir like tiny snowdrops in the dark. The Celts named her The Moon of Ice, for she governs the realm of endings and thawings, of crystalline clarity, of frigid release before the fire of life returns. And this year, her light falls across a sky rich with omens and portents, the stars humming their ancient songs into the deepening dusk.

Above us now hangs a Grand Trine in the element of Air, weaving together Mars, Uranus, and Pluto in a gleaming triangle of magickal momentum. This is a breath of wind that slices through illusion, that rushes into the mind like a prophecy. Mars lends us courage and the desire to act, Uranus whispers revolution and freedom, and Pluto brings the alchemy of death and rebirth. Together they open the way for ideas that change the world, visions that refuse to remain shackled. This is the witch’s breath, the seer’s fire, the prophet’s wind. Yet be wary, for when the mind races too fast, it may become unanchored. Ground yourself with earth and bone, with herb and hearth, lest you be swept into a storm of thought and forget the still centre of your being.

And yet this Moon does not rise unopposed, for Mars faces two great Titans in the sky. Saturn and Neptune. Each one a shadow and a test. Mars opposite Saturn forms a sharp line of tension, like a sword pressing to a shield. It warns of obstacles, of delays, of the weight of responsibility pressing against the wild desire for freedom. Here, the warrior is asked not to rush, but to consider. Action must be tempered with wisdom. Courage must be matched with discipline. A spell cast in haste may backfire. A word spoken too sharply may wound more deeply than intended. But if we meet this opposition with patience, we may forge a strength that is unbreakable.

Mars also opposes Neptune, the weaver of dreams and illusions, who rises now from the ocean’s depths to cast her misty glamour. This aspect can blur our instincts, cloud our judgement, and stir up feelings that don’t belong to us. It is easy now to be led astray, to lose ourselves in fantasy or confusion. This is a night when the Fae walk thick in the hollows, and not all wear kindly faces. Protect yourself, beloveds, with wards and salt and iron if you must. But also, let Neptune teach you to soften, to dance in the fog, to let go of the need to know everything. For in the realm of mystery, sometimes the most potent magick is surrender.

On the tail of this lunation, a rare alignment arises. Saturn sextile Uranus, exact on the 11th, blesses us with the spell of balance between old ways and new. It is the crone and the child sitting together by the fire, one holding memory, the other possibility. This energy is a gift. The opportunity to create new structures, to build sacred habits that are both innovative and wise. If you are working on a great transformation, a life change, a reinvention of your path, this aspect lends you both the lightning and the bricks. Catch it, darling ones, like a shooting star and plant it in the soil.

Then, as if to sweeten the pot and charm our hearts, Venus meets Jupiter in the sky on the 12th, offering blessings of love, abundance, and joy. This is a generous and fertile energy, and though it comes after the Moon’s peak, it will linger in the spell cloud she casts. Love may arrive like birdsong after a storm. Friendships may blossom where silence once was. Beauty might be found in the smallest, most overlooked corners of your life. Yet take care not to become greedy, to chase pleasure at the cost of truth. For even blessings must be honoured with gratitude and balance.

The Moon herself also draws close to asteroid Ceres, goddess of grain and grieving, mother of Persephone. There is a soft nurturing here, a longing to care for what is fragile, to cradle the small and sacred things in our hands. We may be asked to tend to old wounds or offer compassion where it has long been withheld. And overhead, the fixed star Rotanev in the constellation of the Dolphin gleams. A star of healing, laughter, and joy returned after sorrow. Pallas Athena, warrior priestess and wise weaver of justice, lends her spear to this Moon as well. There is strategy and cunning in her blessings. She reminds us that the battle is often won in the mind before the sword is ever drawn.

So what does this Full Moon of Ice truly mean for us, in this strange Winter twilight, this liminal in between? It is a Moon of potential, of brilliance, of sudden truth, but also of challenge, illusion, and transformation. The positive light of this lunation brings with it flashes of insight, clarity of mind, brilliant ideas, unexpected revelations and the courage to begin again. But the shadowed side may reveal restlessness, confusion, emotional disconnection or scattered thoughts. It is a Moon that asks us to let go of what binds the mind, but to do so with heart, with care, and with the ancient knowing that all things are part of a greater weaving.

And so I offer you this spell, my loves, for clarity and release under the Moon of Ice. You will need a sprig of rosemary for remembrance and clarity, a piece of smoky quartz for grounding and transmutation, a silver candle to mirror the icy Moonlight, three drops of eucalyptus oil for breath and healing, and a square of blue cloth to tie it all together. On the night of the Full Moon, cast a circle beneath her light, and breathe deeply until the mind quietens. Place the rosemary and quartz before you, anoint the candle with eucalyptus and light it. Say:

Moon of Ice, so clear and bright
Burn away what clouds my sight
Let truth arise, let fog depart
Restore the wisdom of my heart

Hold the blue cloth in your hand and place the herbs and stone within. Tie it closed, whispering your intentions into the bundle. Carry it with you until the New Moon, and then bury it near water to seal the spell.

And now, as the wind whirls and the jasmine still sleeps in bud, I return to my hearth to listen to the stories the fire will tell me this night. May your heart be strong, your mind be still, and your spirit light as snowflake ash. Blessed be this Moon of Ice.

With love from my shadowed window,

Tori, The Burrow Witch ###ooo

The Burrow

31/10/2025

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