the guests had one month fewer

they do not speak the language of nature

(Saami poet Nils-Aslak Valkeapää)


Och, maybe I've just gone too far into the mists.

Cowans just don't make sense any more.

I find that I can't even bring myself to write (or say) “God”—with a capital G, like a name—as cowans do, without the quotation marks. The way that they use the word is wholly a misuse, a misconstrual, of an old word, a fine word, our word, which never meant, nor means, nor can mean anything even vaguely resembling what they mean by it.

That's the problem of thinking in Pagan. Once you start to do it, it makes so much sense that, in time, nothing else does.

After more than 50 years, I find that when I try to think in Cowan, it's like trying to use a language that I haven't spoken since childhood. Increasingly, I find non-pagans looking at me, puzzled, knowing that something's not completely right, but not what it is.

Well, there's the danger. Stay with this, and that's where you'll end up: so far into the mists that nothing else makes sense.

Be told.