Autumn and winter is the most moving time of the year for me as a pagan. The beauty of death and rebirth, the eternal spinning of life and renewal. The honoring of the Disir, our great ancestral mothers, makes me think of my own mother’s passing and my own inevitable one that lies ahead. The Wild Hunt where the Allfather lead his furious host through the world, and winter of course reminds me of great Mother Holle, ancient Goddess of my ancestors, who despite the Christian’s best attempts, her memory lives on. These are holy times for me. Great and vast.