Casting Spells

Stick Book

In the long ago times, Halloween, or All Hallow’s Eve, marked the beginning of winter and the darker half of the year. The Celts believed that on this night, the border between our world and that of the spirits merged, and those otherworldly beings were free to step over our thresholds and have a look around, scaring the wits out of sensible souls.

I must admit that Halloween has always unsettled me. Even when I was a girl, it was spooky out there on those dark, windy October nights with the clouds racing above the bare trees and all those ghosts and goblins on the loose. The candy was some compensation, as was the novelty of dressing up as a gypsy or a hobo, but I was quite happy to return to our well-lit living room and bite into the prized chocolate bar amid the boring caramels and candy corn.

That said, as I get older, the idea of being a year-round witch is quite appealing. I like wearing black, lots of fluttery layers of it; I like the dreamy idea of taking off on a broom for a midnight ride to anywhere; I like knowing I have access to secrets and feeling at home in mysterious places like deep woods, ancient castles, lonely moors.

I would be a good witch, albeit mischievous, and use my powers sagely. Since of all the witchy skills the casting of spells holds the most allure, I would specialize (there are spells for money, weather, health, home & hearth, success, etc.) in the genre that interests me most: love. For years, I have had in my possession a tattered little handmade book of Love Spells but never knew the name of the witch who gave it to me. Here are a few of her notations:

*If two people eat a four-leaf clover together, mutual love will result.

*To have a dream of a past love, eat a few caraway seeds before retiring.

*If you hold a catnip leaf until it is warm, then hold your lover’s hand, he will go anywhere with you.

*Apricot pits can be included in sachets to attract love. Orris roots, as well.

*Serve a rhubarb pie to your love to help mend a quarrel.

There are many others, and I agree that serving a homemade rhubarb pie will have almost any desired effect.

On this October’s final night, I will wear a sprig of thyme to make myself irresistible, don a diaphanous black skirt, bring the broom out from beside the wood pile, and see what happens when the wind picks up and the moon rises.