Because old man winter comes in December, it is good to say October is woman. A well-balanced woman she is. Beautiful and radiant with ample color. The kind of woman who walks into a room with a cape on and tosses it, commanding attention. The crisp air and the winds keep her busy; she is a very busy woman. She is a strong woman indeed.
She has lots of spirit guides. Familiars at her side, they enhance her strength and enable her to perform her duties. She lets the weather and the day dictate her duties and does as she pleases. She decorates a lot, both inside and outside. She works busily about the cottage and land, and she is aided by fall energy. She is one with the season.
Fall energy is different, fall spirits are different, and fall fairies are different than those of the spring. They are much faster in helping us. They are swift and whimsical, and October appreciates their direction. She holds many tools and prepares for things to come. She has a passion for art and uses bright colors to express herself. She reads fire and dances with it. She speaks to the reflections in the water. The birds of prey accompany her as she walks through fields and dances in the corn husks and catches a scarecrow’s eye. She shape-shifts with the plants blowing in the wind and shape-shifts with the crows in the sky.
October fears very little, for she is a survivor. Every year she knows her cycle and knows her friend spring will come. She gets ready for hibernation with ease. She enjoys loud sounds and likes to see things scurry about. She loves the tricksters of the fall, fooling her eyesight and making her laugh out loud. Her laugh can be heard from distant places, a contagious laugh it is. She loves the night and the fun, scary, outdoor moments when the the wind whips things around, where there are unfamiliar sounds that are caused by things crashing and breaking.
The wind is October’s friend. The Harvest moon is her divine connection to the universe and all its beauty. She waits for it to come and greets it as she rises across the bay, bowing down to worship and the loons and fish on the lake by her home chime into the magnetic trance movement of true and utter praise. The water is like glass, its silence hushes her. October loves this night; she is the night. She collects branches and breaks them with her knees and tosses them into a massive fire that stretches to the stars in the sky.
She has to sleep under the stars and the moon on this night. A fox and skunk slide by, both attracted to the moon and October’s full-moon ritual. The next morning comes and she wakes up and talks to the trees. The trees talk to October. She heads for the barn and the cats and dogs follow her. She mounts her horse and heads for the woods — to disappear in the forest and never be seen again until the next year. Just as the season ends. October goes away with it to rest and replenish her strength to shine on the next year.
Next year, a new October will emerge. We will all look forward to meeting her then. Always remember, October is just around the corner for all of us.