The Heart of the Seasons: How My Upbringing Influences My Seasonal Magic
Author’s Note: The content of this blog reflects my personal experiences and perspectives on magic. Witchcraft is a deeply individual practice, and my approach may not align with everyone’s beliefs or traditions. I encourage readers to explore, question, and adapt what resonates with them. Nothing shared here is meant to serve as absolute truth or professional advice. Trust your intuition, do your own research, and walk your own path.
I was raised by farmers and country folk. So I consider the rhythms of the earth to be something of a first language for me. My family’s life was tied to the seasons, not by the dates on a calendar, but by the observable changes in the air, the soil, and the animals that we lived with. There was no sharp line between the seasons. For us spring didn’t start on the Equinox, and winter didn’t arrive on the Solstice. These shifts were felt over time, emerging slowly, creeping in. So, when I turned to witchcraft and was introduced to the Wheel of the Year, I was surprised to find that many others treated the Solstices and Equinoxes as the beginnings of a season, not their peak.
For me, the Solstices and Equinoxes mark the turning point of a season, when it is ready to reach it more intense. The Winter Solstice is not when winter begins, but when it reaches its coldest, its deepest stillness. By the time the Solstice rolls around, the frost has set in, the trees are bare, and the days are at their shortest. To think of it as the start of winter feels like missing the point somehow. The same is true for the Summer Solstice. The fields are lush, the days long, and the sun beats down at its highest.
We didn’t wait for a date to tell us when to plant or harvest. It was the weather, the soil, the signs of life. I remember long summer nights when the cicadas sang, and in winter, the moment when the first frost touched the ground. For me magic was woven into these cycles. And observing those cycles was never about marking the start of a season with a ritual, but about understanding the language of the world and living in tune with it every day.
So, when I celebrate the Solstices and Equinoxes now in my witchcraft practice, I don’t just acknowledge them as transitions; I see them as culminations. I honor these moments as times when the season is at its fullest—when the energy is ripe for change. For me, magic doesn’t simply begin at these points; it ripens there. I don’t cast spells in anticipation of a change—I celebrate the change that is already taking place. I honor the peak of each season’s power and draw upon it for my workings.
In my twenty-five years of practice, I’ve learned that witchcraft, much like life, doesn’t follow strict beginnings or endings—it’s cyclical. There are no sudden shifts, only slow, inevitable changes. So, when I honor the Solstices and Equinoxes in my craft, I don’t see them as milestones in a linear progression; I see them as moments to gather the energy of the season at its peak, to honor what has already grown, and to prepare for the changes ahead.
