#shyldri

[ayzrules]

31 days of witches - day vii, the witch of the desert moon

The moon came to the forge with her skirt of white flowers. The young boy watches her, watches. The boy is watching her.

— Federico García Lorca, “Romance de la luna luna” (from this translation)

the witch of the desert moon walks with darkness dripping off her shoulders. she is not afraid of the night, and neither are those who follow her, because in the desert, the darkness is a respite from the stifling heat of the noonday sun; in the desert, the darkness is when the world comes alive with the chirps and cackles and snarls and screeches; in the desert, the darkness is life. the witch of the desert moon is kind and gentle, and though her hands are cold as ice, one finds that they are always welcome to take shelter with her in the soothing night air. she will tell you: there is nothing to be afraid of.

witch of the desert sun

[ayzrules]

But if I choose the darkness instead?

Shyldri has never feared the darkness.

And why should she? In the desert, the darkness is a respite from the stifling heat of the noonday sun. In the desert, the darkness is when the world comes alive with the chirps and cackles and snarls and screeches of innumerable forms of life-life that has changed and adapted to live in the harsh land of sky and sand; life that somehow thrives in this land despite the burning sun and the miles and miles of nothingness. In the desert, the darkness is restoration and relief. In the desert, the darkness is life.