A window full of stars
Even the cosmos like company
Apothecary News: The 2025 Lunar + Seasonal Planners are now on sale! Even if you’ve missed the first month, this is still a great resource for planning with many folktales and seasonal tidbits in between.
The bedroom was as dark as the forest that looked in my window. I was finally climbing into bed in the middle of the night as I tend to do. Routine had taken over and I was going through my usual motions until I looked out said window.
The trees had long disappeared into an amorphous sleeping giant since dusk. But above them, in the little sliver of sky I could see from my window, were the stars. Brighter and more alive than I could recall ever seeing them. They seemed to shimmer against the winter sky, dancing quietly in their own cosmic space.
I couldn’t help but stare for a few minutes. The haze of routine broken open, the feeling of being vividly present in a singular moment, witnessing this vast universe washed through me. I felt like I did when I was young, camping in a farmer’s field, looking up at a sky unscarred by human light, feeling incredibly small, awed and terrified all at once.
This night though, the feeling was simply comforting. The stars felt like distant companions. Maybe it was some meteorological event that could explain their eerie clarity. It could’ve been the hour of night when things aren’t always what they seem. Perhaps the stars themselves decided to whisper to me, checking in, making sure I’m good. Regardless, it felt special.
They say motherhood is lonely, that life can be lonely. When I look up at the stars, when the turkeys visit my snow covered garden, when I feel the cold wind on my face, it doesn’t feel that way. It doesn’t take much to bring me back.
In earlier days, our Slavic ancestors saw they night sky as an environment just as alive as the land they tended. The ever-spinning stars were rich with stories of souls and goddesses. But they never treated it as a place separate from this earth.
The stars to them were indeed alive. They were often depicted as animals or other living beings that could wander the skies. One of their most coveted constellations, the Pleiades, was likened to a hen and her chicks. In other regions, it was seen as a sieve that sifted oats or souls.
These very earthly everyday animals and objects were just as holy as the divine celestial bodies. Likewise, the celestial bodies were just as accessible, just as homey and familiar as the hen and the sieve.
Soil became stars and stars became soil. Now we know, it is all made of the same stuff after all. Though they knew it too didn’t they? It is still amazing to consider how much early humans knew about the universe. It seems all science does now is confirm what they had already been telling stories about for centuries.
Humans were not barred from the heavens either. There are many tales of maidens flying around the sky with fiery candles or causing other celestial disruptions. One such tale goes like this.
There are three stars that live next to the Milky Way called Maiden Stars. In Slavic lore there once were three human sisters. They had no parents to look after them but nonetheless spun and sewed, baked bread, plowed the fields, harvested grain all on their own.
Matchmakers would often come by the sisters’ house, intending to make respectable women out of them by finding them husbands. However, every time they would come to their home, the gates and doors would swing open all on their own. But when they entered the house it was completely empty as if no soul lived there at all. There were no crows of a rooster, no smell of a brewing stew, no sign of clothes hanging out to dry.
Confused, the matchmakers would leave. Once outside as they turned to look through the window one last time though, they would see the three sisters sitting there spinning their yarns. Frightened, they would hurry away, the gates shutting firmly behind them with a bang.
It was because of these incidents that the three sisters became known as witches. Scared and threatened, the village people decided to get rid of the sisters. They tried to burn down their home, cunning men attempted to curse them with magic, even a firebird flew circles around their home. Nothing could get rid of the sisters.
Eventually, the three sisters all died of their own accord. Their house fell into splinters, their gate nothing but a few stones and hinges. The village people were relieved until they looked up at the night sky. There they were, the three sisters had become stars sitting next to the Milky Way. Even in death they could not be rid of the cursed sisters.
This is why you should never feel alone when you look up at the night sky, even if you can only see a few true stars. Our ancestors had a secret. Our story is also in the stars. We can still reach up and touch the stars, feel their warmth from millions of miles away. We can recognize them as a familiar animal, a strange sister coming to tea. You are never alone with that knowing.
I’ll leave you then with one of the many Slavic proverbs documented about our stars.
“Live your life but don’t try to catch stars in the water using a strainer.”
Take that as you will.
Much love,
Val
P.S. Feel free to share, it’s much appreciated!
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Thank you! That was sweet. Hope all is going well Val. And that your baby is thriving! Ewa
Love this. I always found the stars to shine brightest in the darkness of winter.