🌒 Hawthorn Rising

🍃 May the old fires guard your steps, and the bright ones rise to meet you.

Huath rises… in the weeks when spring leans toward summer, when blossoms flare like white lanterns and the veil thins enough to hear the breath of what watches.

This is the May Tree… the threshold tree… rooted in two realms, thorn‑armored, sweet‑flowered, never to be taken lightly.

It blooms at Beltane... that fire‑time of desire... when lovers once stood beneath its branches, trading vows in the warm hush of early summer, believing the tree blessed them with passion and the courage to begin again.

But hawthorn is no gentle thing. Its beauty carries warning. Its sweetness hides a blade. It teaches the heart to open without surrendering the boundary… to love fiercely while guarding the quiet center of yourself.

People approached it with offerings... ribbons, coins, or silence... for hawthorn is a doorway, a sentinel at the world’s thin places, where intuition sharpens and unseen forces lean close enough to brush the skin.

In its presence, you feel the shift...a crossing, a listening that begins in the chest, a sense that something ancient has turned its face toward you.

And so Hawthorn Month begins… a season of thresholds, of fierce tenderness, of honoring what moves just beyond sight.

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🌞 Happy hump day… sending much luv, xo