October Full Moon in Aries
For this month’s seasonal guide we’ll be wandering between the “here” and “there” with witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) and the lessons of Baba Yaga. Today we’ll explore both of their stories and how their medicine relates to each other. Keep an eye out tomorrow for our Creative Exploration section of the guide (via video) as I walk you through making a distillation of witch hazel without a still. Even if you don’t have access to witch hazel, you can use the same process for other woody shrub bark such as chaste tree, alder or barberry.
As always, the 2025 Lunar + Seasonal Planner is another great addition to living more intentionally throughout the year.
There is an old Polish belief nearly lost to time that suggests during childbirth, a mother must travel to the afterlife to retrieve the soul of her child. Back then, it wasn’t uncommon for her not to return. That fear lingers still. Women were believed in the old culture to be able to commune with these in-between places because of this. There was both a sense of apprehension and respect that hung over the workings of women.
But for me, as I near the end of my own pregnancy, I feel empowered by this journey only I can be tasked with. Time is bending as I become more and more aware of the women who’ve come before me. They surround me, circling closer and closer. There is a type of peace here that is new to me. Maybe it’s my dark Scorpio sun and moon that inspires fascination with such things. Maybe it was just always meant to be this way.
It feels appropriate that this dissolving of worlds is occurring at the same time that the earth is also experiencing such a transition.
Once upon a time when death was much closer, when we treated it as an extension of life, there were many moments throughout the year when the veil thinned. We could walk weave in and out of these liminal spaces often, reminding us of the power of shadow. Each point in the wheel; on new moons, full moons, during significant life events, we could be drawn closer to the mysteries of the other side.
Nowadays we often only feel this weaving of worlds at the time of year when the veil is the thinnest. The autumn cross-quarter will draw us deeper down the dark tunnel to winter. There is something about this particular point in the wheel that awakens that sensitivity to other worlds.
This thinning is a perfect time to work with plants and stories that walk this line and invite us to traverse it with them.
Unmasking the witch
It was a warm summer night when I first dreamt of her. I was staring up through a canopy of brilliant yellow leaves as the sun danced above. In that moment I knew this was witch hazel. Though when I woke up I was confused by this fleeting realization. I had never seen witch hazel in the wild, but I knew this shrub had yellow flowers, not yellow leaves.
I tucked the message into the back of my mind anyways and moved on with life. A few months later when summer bled into autumn, I decided to walk a new trail. As I followed the sandy dirt path I began noticing large shrubs with shimmering yellow leaves leaning in on both sides.
They gave me pause. I moved in closer to see who was snagging my attention. Beneath the golden leaves were tiny scraggly yellow flowers I knew to be witch hazel. They were spider-like in form, like the gnarled fingers of a witch casting a spell.
Ah, I see. This plant was tricky indeed. To appear in a dream not in her form with flowers on full display, but masked as someone completely different. You should’ve looked closer, she chuckled on that trail, a point I couldn’t argue.