Samhain

In between worlds

Little Foot | Wolf Haven Sanctuary

On this threshold between seasons, a moment of stillness with a wolfdog named Little Foot.

Samhain—the Pagan turning of the year, the day when the veil between worlds is thin.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve made altars—sacred spaces to honor life and death, animals, and nature in all her wildness—places to pause and listen to the heartbeat of the world unfolding.

Animist traditions have always felt most aligned with me. Belief systems that include other species and regard the hallowed earth we walk for this brief time allow me to live in reverence and in relationship with my furred, feathered, and finned kindred.

This day marks the end of the harvest season and the descent toward the Winter Solstice, also known as Yule. It’s a time when I long for silence and solitude—for seeing what the robust summer and early autumn months have brought, and how I’ve met the internal and external harvest of my life.

The whispers of my future self emerge in these moments. As the yellow and red leaves free themselves from the wet branches, I too feel the pull to let go of what I do not wish to carry into the dark, cold days ahead.

I long for a simple life, and I know that simplicity arises not only from the external discerning of one’s world, but from clarity of mind—shaping the internal frontier toward a path that will lead onward, with open eyes and a fiercely loving heart.

Yesterday, it looked like sitting for over an hour outside of Little Foot’s home at Wolf Haven Sanctuary in the misty Pacific Northwest. A rescued wolfdog, she lives with as much ease and freedom as possible within her circumstances.

It wasn’t about her or about me; it was about the space between us—the invisible but deeply felt way we both inhabit a certain wildness.

With reverence for the turning of the wheel,

Diana