Mount Olivet cemetery Part 2







Merry meet all,

The harvest season is upon us. Before we know it, summer will give way to the cool crisp days of autumn. I returned to Mount Olivet cemetery today. I explored the other far side of the cemetery. I prefer the side of the cemetery close to the road. I am more familiar with that side.

I like the energy better there. I am very sensitive to energies. It feels very open for a cemetery. You would think it would look or seem shrouded in mists, bony trees and there’d be more crumbling ruins. The cemetery is open and has a feel like you were walking through a park.

Crows flew through the cemetery or perched on tombs. I paused in my step when I saw a crow resting on a tomb marker. He didn’t seem bothered by my presence at all. He flew over to a tree. I respect and fear crows. They warned me of a death in the past. I believe crows can sense if a witch is near or around them. They can remember a person. I’ve lived in my neighborhood for eight years. I am sure they know me by now. I will offer them bird seed.

As I walked through the whole cemetery, it hit me how vast the cemetery was. It also hit me just how many of the dead inhabit the cemetery. I approached a tree where I found a clean mussel shell and some heavy white rocks. A seagull was hungry in the past.

I hope to try the exercises from Michelle Belanger’s book Walking the Twilight Path soon. She has a book about becoming more familiar with death and cemeteries. I suspect I have to try the exercises under cover of night to avoid suspicion from ‘muggles’. But it is still July. I see July as a month of uninhibited fun and time to take time of from death and cemeteries. August ushers in the season of the harvest. I will begin her exercises in the autumn once it begins.

I am partial to donning cloaks and long dresses with billowing sleeves. I usually wear black too. I wear black because it attracts spirits and it is a cool color. I feel more alive in black. I like to look like a witch. I have gone to extreme efforts such as sewing lots of my own clothing. I am sure I would get glances parading around a cemetery  in my paraphernalia but honestly I don’t care. I dress for myself not for other people. Life is too short.

I can’t wait to get started on my new project. It’s so awesome that there’s a cemetery so close to where I live. That will make it easier then I can return home on the nature trail, which is also close by. All I need is a journal and an open mind.

A few more books to read if you’re interested in necromancy are Goth Craft by Raven Digitalis, Summoning Spirits and Nocturnal Witchcraft by Konstantinos, Spirit Conjuring for Witches by Barrabas, and The Witches Book of the Dead by Day. If you read all these books, you will have a more rounded amount of knowledge about honoring the dead. I would highly recommend that. You have to be careful.

There are other books available on the subject. I am suggesting these titles because I have already read them and enjoy them.

I now know how to cast off energy once I exit the cemetery that I don’t own. People should familiarize themselves with centering, grounding and shielding their energy. Then you can discard what you don’t want in your aura more effectively.

I have a new reason to anticipate autumn’s arrival. Blessings

Lady Spiderwitch




City of the Dead- Mount Olivet Cemetery

Merry meet all,

I live near the Mount Olivet cemetery with its own claim to fame. It is where the Titanic victims were buried. I often visit there, I stroll near the graves down a path littered with tree roots, dead leaves and rotted apples. Apple trees grow on the other side of the stone wall. Though the trees appear to grow in and out of the cemetery.

A brook runs on the other side of the cemetery. The brook gurgles. I like to think of it as a vessel for spirits to travel to the Underworld. 

Trees line the outer edges of the cemetery. A crow nest rests in one of the trees. The cemetery is somewhat kept up in good condition. Crows perch on tombstones, ruffling their ebony feathers. They must sense and guide more spirits than we sense. Crows have long held the reputation of guiding spirits over to the Otherworld.

I once saw something that reeked of death and disgusted me. Our society tucks death away into a corner, glossed over, unseen. We don’t like to look at the ugly bare side of Death. We now have funeral homes, morgues and the like to take care of our loved ones when their time comes. We hand over our Elders to caretakers in special homes. We slather creams on our skin, exercise and live in eternal fear of death. It’s not going to happen to us. It is in someone else’s yard. We don’t look at it or acknowledge it. We can dye our hair and trim fat away. We crave youth. Death is real. It is the other side of life. It is inevitable. It skips alongside life from the second we are born. It skips us in our step eventually. We all have our turn. It is a question of when. Every time I see a cemetery, I am reminded of that unalterable fact.

I saw a few carpenter ants on a rotted apple in the cemetery. It occurred the day before the 1st of October. I assumed the carpenter ants were dead. They didn’t move. I studied the tree trunk. It appeared for a moment to be in the cemetery and on the outside of it by the way the trunk was shaped. Sunlight shone on the apple tree trunk. I returned my attention to the apple. Then …. one of the ants moved. I was disgusted. It was the way the ant moved that revolted me for some reason. I stared at the apple, feeling my insides churn. The ants were attracted to the taste of the apple’s fruit. I walked to another spot but I couldn’t forget it.

I don’t know why I saw that. It was in a way an embodiment of that which we most ignore: death. The decay of the body or of the flesh of the apple. A reminder of mortality. It is fitting it was witnessed within the cemetery. Egg shells abandoned by baby birds have a terrible smell. Nature is visceral, organic, raw and untamed.

Tours of the cemetery are offered to the public. There are signs posted to guide people who visit the cemetery about particular sections of the cemetery. Since I live nearby, I hike through it many times as I go to the metro transit to catch a bus. The graves of the Titanic victims are buried in a small plot. A plaque stands near the graves to inform tourists of the tragic tale of the Titanic.

So far I have only explored one side of the cemetery. I have yet to visit and acquaint myself with the other parts. I love sauntering through the cemetery, hearing twigs crunch underfoot and mashing leaves with my shoes. I like the wind in my hair. I like to think of a cemetery as its own microcosm, its own world, other, a city of the dead full of its own web of life. It holds that within. 

Do I fear death? Sure I do. But I just have my own weird perspective. I have a fear of drowning too. Every autumn, where I live, there is a lovely birch tree trunk where I see insects crawl up and down it, birds visit it, and cats climb its trunk. But in one corner of the window where I can see the tree, spiders build webs to catch insects. I’ve seen spiders catch struggling moths in its snare. I usually get grossed out then. I think death and nature are intertwined. Spiders don’t eat their prey: spiders drain the blood of their prey. The spiders check for prey when they sense a tremor in their amazing webs. Nature is beautiful and also about death. In the winter, the foliage dies back, the gardens fall under the scythe, the earth rests till spring. It happens without question, inevitable. 

I also aid in the cleanliness of the cemetery. I clean up the garbage and debris people leave on the ground. The dead deserve a clean environment for their eternal cold rest. It is disrespectful to scatter garbage everywhere. If people can do that, then it is fair to assume they don’t have respect for the dead. 

Get to know the history of your town. A great way to do that is to explore a cemetery or two on your own. It can teach you a lesson about death. Hopefully the lesson will be necessary yet not unpleasant.

Blessings, Lady Spiderwitch )O(

One Night in Salem book

Merry meet all,

I want to tell you the good news. My short story, The Grimm Pumpkin, will be published by FunDead Publications this fall. The anthology of spooky short stories is titled One Night in Salem. My story centers around Samuel., a young student who is bullied by a classmate. He gets revenge on him by Samuel’s mother’s pumpkins, who devours the bully.

The stories span 400 years and vary in the storytelling, theme, characters and styles. The stories all share the common thread of occurring in Salem though they all happen in different decades. I can’t wait to read the anthology and look forward to seeing it in print.

I’ve never been to Salem. I made up for that by doing research at the local library. My story was first a 500-word flash fiction story published in Horror Novel Reviews: One Hellacious Halloween Volume 1 ebook and secondly in the Ezine Chicago Literati. This is the third reprint and I couldn’t be happier. It shows what can happen when you use your imagination!

The book can be preordered on the FunDead Publications website. There’s one more reason to celebrate Autumn. The website is for more info. Or here:

The book cover shows a pumpkin. I await the opportunity to read the scary and fantastical tales spun in the book One Night in Salem. I hope you all have a chance to read it too. 

Blessings, Lady Spiderwitch


Faeries Siren Song )O(

la cat

Merry meet all,

I want to post about our winged friends. No I don’t mean screeching jays or cooing chickadees. I am talking about the fae, the faeries, our unseen allies. Or so we think. I’m a brave enough adult to dare to believe in the existence of faeries but I also know well enough when to invoke them, honor them and be careful of them.

Faeries can help us in our homes and gardens. They can protect the home and magically guard a home, help plants grow in the garden and protect it, and keep worse nasty spirits away. But where I come from, they can also enchant you to steal you away to leave you to your death!

I believe that Pleasant Bay is highly populated with the fae and spirits. The tiny fishing village where I set my novel and where I grew up is faery territory. They frolic and flit and send out siren songs to lure you to your fate. Their siren song is sung and the people who can hear them are most likely more clairvoyant.

I have strolled through the woods, the nature trails, and hiked on the mountains. As I walked, I saw flashing spots of light and felt their presence. It feels like you’re being watched but you look and nothing is there. You swear your hear giggles but again, nothing’s there. You feel an unusual need to take a certain direction on a walk through the trees but you can’t understand why you wanted to do that. That is what I mean by faeries. They choose to show themselves to you, its not the other way around. They prefer those who are faery friendly and want to help protect the environment.

But its not without its dangers. The siren songs are heard by those who possess the ability to. However, they can confuse those who are weary and unwary. A cliff presents its dangers and small ponds or lakes. Harbours are another hunting ground for faeries. They say the fae were originally blood drinkers. It is possible, I haven’t researched that enough yet. But while I am not sure they sing that siren song, I believe that they do.

Never thank a faery and never linger in their fae world for too long. Never take their food or drink or you will never return to the mortal world. Their time is different than ours. Their logic is different than ours.

Don’t turn your back on the ocean, don’t gaze into the ocean waves too long and don’t get lost on highways. I am sure some of this goes without saying. But if you don’t believe me, then go to the harbor on a foggy night and see for yourself if you are not entranced by the moody misty waves. I have been and know when to enjoy that sensual experience of waves rolling but know when to turn away and go home.

But for those who can and do sense faeries, then embrace your gift. It is a magical and should be treasured gift to sense the faeries. They don’t let themselves be known by just anyone. You must be special. You may just have a brownie or house goblin lurking within the walls of your home. Hint: They like older houses. Leave an offering of pretty silver trinkets, or milk, honey and cookies for them. And never stop believing in magick!!!

Blessings, Lady Spiderwitch )O(