Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Black Egg
Behold: black eggs.
Bright black.
To some, this might seem strange.
To us, it makes perfect sense.
Black is fertile. Black is rich. Black holds everything.
Other priesthoods wear white.
Not so ours.
Black as Mother Earth, who bears the red rye and white barley.
(See her likeness on the goose's egg?)
Black as Mother Night, with her great sky of stars.
We of the Mother rejoice in black.
It is our sacred color.
Photo: Katya Trischuk
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