The Witch of the Woods Celebrates Autumn's Awakening

She was a witch of the woods, and that meant her cauldron was a giant hollowed tree stump. Sometimes when she tired of stirring and blending, mixing and concocting, she’d perch on its edge and wait for unsuspecting travelers to do a double take when they see her there, her dress and hat blending in with the forest around her no matter the season. “Hello, my dearies,” she’d then whisper in a soft voice, and cackle as she watched them run away. Not everyone was brave enough to deserve the magic she offered.

She was a witch of the woods, and that meant her cauldron was a giant hollowed tree stump. The ledge of it was perfect for resting her hat upon when she grew too overheated from the potions she brewed in its timber cavity. And having a cauldron with roots that stretched down into the earth meant that her brews were filled with the energy of dirt and loam, root and burrow. 

She was a witch of the woods, and that meant her cauldron was a giant hollowed tree stump. She gazed intensely into its empty basin, waiting for the whispers in the wind to tell her what potion she was supposed to brew next, and for which weary traveler who might stop by her cottage door. This day, the breeze tickled her ear and told her to sit for a moment and rest. It was a tiring process, making magic for others, and sometimes she just needed to stop and look around her at the changing autumn leaves.

She was the witch of the woods with garments that shifted and transformed with the seasons. As summer’s green gradually changed to reds and golds, so too did her cape, her underdress. Autumn leaves sprouted on her moss-covered witch hat. She walked her forests and touched the green leaves with her besom handle, whispering to them that it was time to exchange their emerald for amber.

The witch of the woods knew that sometimes life was as straight and narrow as an arrow shaft. Sometimes it twisted and turned in corkscrews like the handle of her sturdy broom. But the changing seasons were a reliable magic, and she celebrated as summer ended, and autumn began.

Sit for a while with the witch of the woods and tell her your story. What do you love about the seasons changing? What do you love about the air growing colder and October’s awakening? What are your favorite memories of autumn?

Thanks to Nightshade Handmade for my beloved besom.

The broom handle was clear coated with shimmering fairy dust in the varnish.

Folk Owl gloves, one for summer’s green, one for autumn’s gold.