Name: Summer Sauveterre Occupation: Clerk at the Safe Harvest General Store in Macleay, OR Age: 32 Sexuality: Homoromantic Demisexual Species: Witch Coven: Garnett Magic: Season-Based Nature Abilities Hometown: Macleay, Oregon Personality: Stubborn, a bit spiteful, patient, grounded, nurturing, adaptable
Your mother Laurel loved freely, she always said. She loved you with her whole heart, she always said. And when you asked her what would happen if she had two people to love, she said she’d love you and them with her whole heart as well. She had enough room in her heart for more love – as long as she drew breath and even after that, there would always be enough love.
For a while, it was just you and her and all your love. But then there was a man who wasn’t your dad, and even though she promised you there was enough love to go around, you got scared. Scared he’d take the love away. She told you that you didn’t have to love him if you didn’t want to, so you didn’t. But she asked you to love the little bump, the baby growing in her tummy, who was also going to take more of her love.
Unlike the man, though, the baby was carried close to her heart just like you were. Maybe that made things different. Maybe you’d love her too – your little sister. After Summer came Autumn.
But you didn’t get to meet your sister. And your mother never came back. You’d been sent to spend a few days with your aunt Therese, told you’d be home with the family soon. You were scared to see the man – but you never did. You wanted to see your sister – but you never did. And after the few days, you were told that your mother wasn’t coming home, that she’d returned to the beautiful earth and that while she was gone, you’d still feel her spirit in the magic your family shared. The magic she’d taught you, flowing with the change of the seasons. And after Autumn came the barren cold winter.
Your family had always been in nature, guided by the tenets of the Garnett coven, which had roots and branches wide and deep through the state. Your family was happy to live off the land and off the grid, going into town to trade homemade goods with the few locals in unincorporated Macleay. And while you were determined to live in the frozen throes of your grief, the seasons rolled from one to the next, and so your winter turned into spring.
You spend the years homeschooled, learning and growing in your magic under your aunt’s loving watch. Unlike your mother, though, you get the sense she can only hold so much love in her heart at one time. You occupy a space, yes, but it is diminished by the presence of others, like your cousins who were there first, so you learn to carve space for yourself. You tend gardens and kept bees, brush the animals and bake pastries. You sing while you do the work, and they say your voice sounds like your mothers. So sometimes you talk to yourself.
When you’re older, you ask your aunt Therese to tell you about the man and his daughter who took your love away. You learn the man has died but his daughter is out there, and you wonder if you should go and find her and bring her back to be with the family. But there’s a mix of fear and anger and jealousy like a bitter root inside of you, so you watch from afar. You move with the seasons, feeling the ebb and flow of your magic, the rise and fall of the confusion and grief and curiosity inside you. She’s not far. She’s in Port Leiry. They have Garnett coven there -- home can be other places. But you like having a secret, shaped like your mother’s absence. You don’t want to share that with her, the one who took the spring and sun away from you.
The magic goes like this: Spring is joy and lightness. It’s growth, where sleepy things return to life. You grow the plants better then, calm the creatures with your song, and feel a warmth worth sharing. But summer is your season, where the warmth becomes heat. It brings fire and light. Fortifying, hardy things love the summer, and you feel stronger then. Then comes the fall, or autumn, where growing stops and you gather your work. It’s also a time of rot, the overripe things falling to ruin. You love the mushrooms that grow in this time, and can hear the sounds of nature in celebration. Then biting cold winter puts it all to sleep. It’s a time of withdrawal, where time seems to stop and you can put things on pause until the sun returns. The cycle continues as ever before.
You work in your family’s general store selling the honey you’ve gathered and the herbs you’ve dried. Macleay is quiet and quaint, but you’ve been to the bigger cities. You’ve looked for Autumn without saying so, because you’ve known her and not known her for so long, you’re not sure what you’ll say first. But your aunt Therese tells you that one day, the girl’s other mother is dead – and you think, how sad. No mother and no father, just like you. But you have your aunt, at lest. You’re not sure how or why it happened to her like this, but you know you might have a chance to make things right. You wonder if your mother’s love is still inside of her, and if your heart will ever love as freely and limitlessly as your mother’s did.
You’ve always been a part of the same earth, the same safe land. Maybe there might be some common ground between you after all.
Seeking Connections: - Sister Dearest: @autumnshowell - Fellow Garnett Witches - Customers of Safe Harvest General Store
