We tend to think of water spirits as existing in rivers, lakes, and oceans. Yet water itself exists within the earth throughout the globe. The “water table” under the land may be very deep, but it is there from tundra to rainforest under every bit of walkable landscape
As I sit on the mountain side listening to the crickets of the night air I think about the deep wells that surround this isolated cabin. The various springs and water mines that dot the mountainside portals to that underworld of the land’s water. Pockets of aqua that bring life to the land and its inhabitants and often represent gateways into the otherworld of folk belief.
Each of these water spaces traditionally contains a spirit, often one with a history of local social interaction. The spirits of the wells of England are long thought to possess healing powers that were often later appropriated by the Christian church. Pagan sites converted to shrines of the Virgin Mary and her various saintly retinue.
This phenomena of folk belief in a water spirit that exists within the boundaries of a source of water is a practically global concept, common throughout world cultures. Yet in Portugal, like in Britain, they have come to have a long evolved set of ideas associated with them.
The moura of Portugal are often thought of as the Portuguese equivalent of fairies of the British Isles, yet they have come through a historic past that has shaped them in ways unimaginable to the average celt. Legends of Moorish magic from the time of the Iberian Caliphates ingrained in centuries long folk magic practice, romantic notions of hidden treasures tracing their roots to that people driven so long ago from these lands by Christian Crusaders. Distilled into a corpus of Cyprian related magics seeking to reveal that which is said to have been hidden by Arabic magic.
Bubbling under the surface of this landscape is an ocean, even here in the high mountains of the Açor, where the namesake açor goshawk cries above me as I write. It flows from springs to form streams and creeks that merge downland into rivers, ultimately flowing toward the Atlantic.
While these aquatic protrusions into the land, river and well alike, are often believed to be the home of some spirit or another, the water inside the land stretches in all directions unseen and underfoot. THe well and the river are merely the gateways to that realm of water hidden by the landscape itself.
My investigations into the apotropaic markings on agricultural buildings has led to a number of interesting documents of markings on or near springs and water mines. These marks, scratched into the soft schist stones, resemble in some forms those markings found near agricultural buildings that housed goats and other livestock. Yet more prominent near water sources are circular patterns, not always closed or complete, that repeat.
Found deep inside the watermines these markings have led me to more exploration of their cause, though local inquiry turns up a blank among the people of these hills. None of my mostly reliable sources have been able to find even a whisper of a memory of what or why these markings came to be in the watermines. Contrary to those on buildings, who seem to have as many opinions about there purpose as there are locals to ask about them.
Yet as an occultist it is well apparent that these markings are set out in accordance with some spirit related activity, their occurrence being parallel to a field of sensitivity around certain locales. So far none of the markings I have found have had words or recognizable letters, mostly patterns. Though further investigations are afoot and I hope will yield higher resolution data.
My family are farmers from my mothers side and when I was a kid my gradmother said something along the lines of “If you can grow anything you have a pure heart, plants feed off your soul as much as they feed off the earth. Be kind of them , they pray to god” she told me this while taking off the spikes of cactus pears. Now I buy dying plants from the hardware store on Clarence and easily bring them back to life, everytime I doubt my heart I bring home hoards of plants to bring back to life as if it’s a test of the purity of my soul.
Every plant I have dies…
According to an old lady in a old ass village in Palestine you a bitch then
sewing is one of those skills everyone with the ability should know IMO. i’ve known too many people who just throw out perfectly servicable clothing and bedding because of tears or buttons that have fallen off and these can be fixed at home. sewing’s not hard either.
sewing, like baking bread, is one of those basic skills that corporations have convinced people is just impossible or too expensive for the average person to do in order to manipulate people into buying things.
i’m not saying sewing is possible for everyone, but if you have motor skills fine enough to, say, replace lead in a mechanical pencil, you can learn to sew, and you can help people who can’t sew. here’s a good guide with gifs.
this is what we mean when we say civilization de-skills us to make us dependent
I’m reading on old superstitions and:
“Do not go out collecting nuts on Sept 14th, holy Rood Day, as the devil will be out nutting too!”
September 14th: the day the Devil nuts
woolandcoffee 