The whispering recollection of a hazy chime, all things enlivened by the sound of rushing water. Curl yourself into a ball and raise your tiny little face to the sky, because as we witches know, when it is dark, we look for stars. The plaintive flatlands ask you to turn the inside out, then out inside again. You probably know what this means. Oh and another thing: why be normal?
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Today’s elementals: the translucence of morning dew, the glittering surface of vanadinite, music in the key of F, the sight of a shooting star, the valorous essence of mullein.