The ancestor altar, always present, beckons loudly now. Shadows deepen and voices whisper as internal and external switch places, back and forth and back and forth, sifting and drifting to settle ~ that eerie calm in the eye immune to the wind. That appears to be my word for now - settled.
Wheels up, throttle back. Welcome, Samhain. Welcome.
And Happy New Year a few days early.
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