By Emma Restall Orr

We begin at Samhain.

The first chill winds of Scorpio are howling in, blasting through the trees, tearing off the old leaves, bringing dead wood crashing to the forest floor. The first frosts of dawn are killing back the annuals, stripping herbs down to the mud, leaving stalks pale and bare. Everyone and everything that hopes to survive til spring is crawling into the warmth of the rotting leafmould, retreating to the roots, wrapping themselves up in layers of soft fat, in thick coats, gloves and scarves. There is no denying that winter is sliding in. Even when the sun shines between the clouds it’s not warm. It’s a time when we could slide too, into grey days and dark mornings shivering in the shower, clutching at hot coffee and dreams of summer nights.

Yes, winter is coming and with it that urge to curl up in our burrows and caves to hibernate. But we must wait just a little longer. Samhain is the last festival til the spring for which people will travel far to gather together and celebrate life, and the last great tales of the year must be told again, the wild songs of the summer camping-grounds must be sung one last time. Those whose harvest has been full will bring their excess for those in need as the bonds of peace and support are affirmed between tribes and allies, should they need to be called upon through the cold hard moons ahead.

Ahead of us lie the unknown seasons of the future, but whilst our hands are still sticky with the experiences of the past year, the sweat and blood of our work, the tears and ecstasy of our creativity, we have no hope of fully grasping the potential of the next. So rites and ceremonies are written and played out to focus on the chance to give thanks for the closing of another cycle before the winter covers the land. The past is addressed, honoured, and put behind us.

At Samhain, then, untying ourselves from the structure of the old, dismantling the framework, we enter a period where there is no framework — and so no limitations already laid down which need to be contended with. The scope of our potential is once again opened out to its fullest extent. There is the possibility of the most poignant sensation of freedom. Suddenly anything can happen. And in the frenetic dancing of the Samhain rite and celebrations, exhilarated with the release and spinning round the fires, the night air is alive with this experience.