Last week I dreamt of standing at my grandmother’s dining table, discovering that I had a white baby cobra snake in a paper bag. Apparently their care was my responsibility, though I hadn’t realized until now. Looking into each other’s eyes, many thoughts passed by... guilt at my unconscious neglect... surely they weren’t poisonous, the pet store wouldn’t sell poisonous snakes, would they?... how do I even care for a cobra?...
This dream visitation has been close ever since. And at the same time I keep seeing images of bulls and bees, from old dreams and much older stories.
From all that, here is something for this Taurus new moon time, while I’m home from work with a slight, but niggling cough.
Practicing mother, weedwife, animist, human, who's very thankful to live on the coastal plain of Southern Maine, in Wabanaki terretory, near a place called Owascoag.