Greetings from the garden, where Spring mysteries emerge and bend to the light of Summer. All Winter long I dream of this place, my favorite spot to pull a card from these sister decks. Do the plants have a say in what emerges? Pythia only knows, but I can tell you many times I've pulled the Rose card mere inches from an English Rose herself. Other pulls have been more opaque, even spreads that dare me to muse on what's at stake. One's journey, like their garden's seasonal rise, is unique to each.
One thing my garden has taught me is about timing: the best month to plant a tuber in soil, the best week to sow a certain seed, even a prime hour of day to water, prune, and nourish these beauties. The Pythia Botanica & Maiden Oracle decks each surfaced in my life at the perfect times, too, though not of any conscious choosing. They were a form of Spring for me, a rebirth, a reawakening, and a reminder that all the answers I need just might be seen growing amid all things that grow green.
It's fitting, then, that the light of Spring comes beaming 'round the bend carrying a fresh batch of Pythia Botanica & Maiden Oracle decks. They are ready for pre-order right now, so pick up a deck and prepare for growing the brightest blooms all around you and within. I am filled with such joy to imagine what this season will bring up from beneath the ground.
Currently In Bloom:
When late-setting Suns renew those that are green.
Joni Mitchell's Ladies of the Canyon song "Woodstock" has been wandering into my mind of late. In particular, as I ebb and flow through streams of the season, this one line always strikes me: "We've got to get ourselves back to the garden." Throughout uncertain times in my life, the garden is where I go, hands deep in soil, picking, pruning, plotting, planting, growing.
These days I've found that same solace there, where the land abounds with hope in future blooms, hope in seeds and sprouts, hope in petals and buds.
One of the most magical things about connecting with nature is that it can flourish almost anywhere. A garden can grow in the wild outdoors, it can peer out from small pots on a fire escape, a balcony or a windowsill, it can even sprawl out within your mind or flow like ink into art on sketchbooks. Oh, there's Joni singing again: "And they were turning into butterflies..."
I am forever gardening.
In the Spring, Summer and early Autumn, the garden beckons me outside, tending to blooms of Rose and Dahlia, Cup & Saucer and Passion Flower, and everything in between. I drink my coffee and read my cards in the garden almost every morning with the very blooms depicted. I pick an unimaginable amount of weeds, as well, and find myself at war with the Aphids, armed only with ladybugs and spray bottles of soapy water. I illustrate in my garden, filling sketchbooks, year after year, with all that I'm growing for reference. I keep my hands in the soil and my heart within the earth.
From late Autumn through Winter, I garden within my imagination. I plan for the next growing season, meticulously flipping through old gardening books and catalogues for future blooms. I paint and sketch, creating connections to nature through ink and paper. I garden through my Tarot and Oracle decks, with illustrated botanicals beaming messages from the garden back to me. I garden through house plants and seedlings in windowsills, overtaking chairs and climbing on desks.
This year, an abundance of Hellebores blooms, seedlings that grow more and more with each passing week, and Iris whose leaves are sprouting from the soil have joined me in welcoming our new growing season. I'm over the moon to share in yet another year of gardening with you.
OfMaidenhairFern, Bay Laurel & Columbine
A collective pull for this season from theMaiden's garden.
Drop the complex plot, cut the locks, and run. From Pythia to Ophidia, the fern means new beginnings. The Maiden’s fern is adamant to bring that point home, even when it means leaving home and even when freedom means being awoken in a place to alight alone.
Grow: Bay Laurel isRoot Shields.
Broken things open us to mend toward better visions. Here lies a protective wreath, incomplete. Or is it? Vulnerability provides us great strength, imagination, and a kind of foresight only born of memory. Daphne, the water-driven nymph, eluded an ancient advance through transformation. In the face of perceived weakness, she changed, held sway, became our laureled essence of protection. This shield was built from battered truths: embrace the open wreath and root.
Bloom: Columbine isLift Love, Wilt Woe.
When the world is forlorn and the loudest voices are the ones aimed to instill woe, we feel drowned in a cloud of dark intention. Columbine conjures myths of Aphrodite, a call to focus our search on beacons of love. Listen to ones you love and hook onto their crescent, gleaming eye. They will lift you from despair, drink your tears, and hold your hair.