Photographer/Creative Director: Natasha Wilson @natashawilson.co
Models: Seema Hari @seemahari Sonaz Izadi @sonazizadi Asy Saavedra @asysaavedra Chloe Saavedra @chloesaavedra Maia Saavedra @maiasaavedra_photo Angel Lin @angelmydarling Four @4likefour
Caris Kuhn @rakuhnn Mack @mackandgold Morgan Roberts @really.not.sure Jetta Juriansz @shmetta Michelle Hebért @michellehebertofficial
Gowns: Michelle Hebért @michellehebertofficial
It begins in places of shadow, in woods and on the east sides of mountains, the far side of the beach’s sand: The air is getting softer, velvetier. The hard white light of afternoon is relaxing into gold, and darkness is starting to assert itself in a tapestry of pink and teal and Prussian blue, spangled with stars, lit again by the mirror of the moon—and then by elemental fire, a wheel of it, a blaze, a bank of candles.
This is Midsummer’s Eve.Â
And you’re probably dancing by now.Maybe you’ve already been dancing all day, skipping as you weave long ribbons and flower garlands around the tallest tree or wooden pole within reach. But now it’s time to let go of the ribbons, gather your magic into both hands, let it make its bright way into the night. Tonight even the kindliest witch has a wild heart. So take off the apron; let down your hair. Your sisters are waiting.
The quick night falls amid the northern hemisphere’s longest days of the year. In the third week of June, as medieval poets described it, the jewel of the sun rests overhead and beams down on Earth.
We expect to go a bit mad in the sun—drunk with light. But Midsummer’s Eve, the shortest night, is even more intoxicating than the longest day, because witches thrive on imbalance. What throws ordinary mortals off kilter, confuses them, makes them lose sleep—all this only increases a witch’s power and sense of possibility. Forget the equinoxes, so tidily divided between light and dark; the imbalance of solstice gives us something we can really work with. And with so little darkness around, its magic is concentrated, palpable to any with the gift to recognize it.
So let’s dance till we’re giddy, and then dance even wilder. Share light within our circle of kindred spirits. Pluck a bride on her way to her wedding and make her dance till she forgets she ever felt any other arms around her. Conjure flames from the ground and use them for curing—or cursing, if we need to. We’ll fan the bonfire’s flames with our skirts; we’ll sing of the old gods and goddesses, and roar at mortals’ acts of daring. This is a night of courage and conjuring, summoning the power deepest within us and using it to call down the stars. In the hour of the witch, in the night of the Fire is transformative, and taming it is one of the witch’s first tasks. If it leaps beyond her control, it will gobble everything in its path. But in her wise-woman hands, it can burn off useless dead growth. She can rise from the ashes stronger than ever.
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