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hekate

Hekate working (#1) – Hekate’s Fountain

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The three of us process separately down to the fountain, gathering after dark on the steps that surround it.  Sunday evening activity surrounds the area, people wandering to and fro.  Just behind the tree a fence twists around the park, surrounding a food festival of some sort that was there during the day.  The air is clear and the anxiety that has been with me for the last couple of hours, along with the headache, are beginning to subside.  The moon is dark above us. ‘nightgoing one, disheveled one of compelling countenance’

I mark the 3-turn labyrinth on the steps, mistakenly closing it on the first drawing, so I rub open the first turn, with my finger roughly caressing the paving stone.  The rubbish is strewn through the fountain, now silent and dark.  The water appears to have something like an oil surface, shining rich deep black.  The rams horn which has my libation in it stinks, the water having taken the inside of the horns essence over the last couple of weeks.  It matches the water in the fountain.  ‘daughter of perses, lover of the wilderness who exults among the deer’.

We gather before the steps, placing a lantern on each of the three stepping stones, the light vibrant.  One of us has a dog and full hands, so a brief re-arrangement of items – libations, prayers and dogs – before we begin to circle, whispering her name over and over, first one way, turn, then another, turn, laughter and smiling, then the last turn and now we stand.  Invocation…’beloved hekate, of the crossroads and threeways, saffron cloaked goddess of the heavens, the underworld and the sea’

The water pours in a thick strong stream into the fountain.  Mixing the sources and offering simple time and effort and devotion.  No piety, simple acts and words.  A small fetish for demeter is placed at the centre, another 3-turn labyrinth marked in chalk and then we all stand, arms outstretched in front, as we intone laguz.  Smiles and banish with laughter, before we mill around, during which time I push a small key into the ground before eventually walking home for wine, incense and talk. ‘tauropolous, keyholding mistress of the whole world, maiden, nymph, mountain wandering nurturer of youth, we beg you be present at our rites…’.

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