He took his bow and a quiver of arrows, and headed for the east. He made a shelter from cactus when the heat was unbearable, and traveled as quickly as he could when the sun went down in the west. Finally he came to the place where the sun rises, and he notched an arrow and waited as the ground around him boiled. Coming so close to the heat of the sun scorched Rabbit’s fur, so that even now rabbits have brown patches behind their ears and legs.

When the sun was halfway up, Rabbit let his arrow fly straight through the heart of the sun. Standing over the defeated sun, Rabbit declared: "The white part of your eye will be the clouds, and the black part of your eye will be the sky! Your kidneys will be stars, your liver the moon, and the heart of the sun will be the night!"

And so it was.

"And," said Rabbit, "You will never be too hot again!"

And it never was. 

And if the sun ever does get too hot, Rabbit has an arrow ready.

Source note: This story is based on "Three-Legged Rabbit Fights the Sun," collected by Ella Clark from an unnamed western Rocky Mountain tribe. The story is available online at http://solar-center.stanford.edu/folklore/three-legged-rabbit.html and in American Indian Myths and Legends. New York: Pantheon Books, 1984. The White River Sioux tale of Rabbit Boy in the Ostara section also mentions Rabbit's defeat of the sun.

One day Wild Boy said to his brother, "Where does our father find so much game?  We should follow him and find out."  So when Kenati took his bow and left for the hunt, his sons followed.  First Kenati went to the swamp and gathered strong reeds.  The boys watched as their father trimmed the reeds into arrows and fitted them with feathers.  Then Kenati went to the mountains.  He rolled a great rock away from the tallest mountain, revealing the opening of a cave.  Out of the cave ran a deer, and Kenati rolled the rock back over the opening.  The boys watched as their father drew his bow and shot the deer with an arrow.  As Kenati lifted the deer on his back and started his journey home, the boys said "We can do that!" and made plans for the next day.

Like boys everywhere, Wild Boy and Good Boy wanted to be like their father, to do the things he did.  So the next day, their bellies filled with meat, they went to the swamp and made arrows.  Then they went to the mountains and, working together, rolled aside the great rock.  A deer ran out and the boys ran after it, but in their excitement they forgot to cover the opening of the cave.  While the boys chased after the deer, animals and birds poured out of the cave and scattered around the world.

Kenati, in his anger at discovering this mischief, went deeper into the cave and released the insects of the world to bite and sting the boys.  "You bad boys," he said, "have had it too easy.  When we needed food, we always had it.  Now you will have to search through the forest to hunt game and still not find enough."  And with that Kenati stormed away.

Soon the boys were hungry, and -- like boys everywhere -- they went to their mother to feed them.  "We have no more meat," Selu told them, "but I will provide for you.  Wait here and I will see what I can do."  Soon Selu returned with a basket of corn to feed her children.  She showed them how to grind the grain and bake bread.

One day Wild Boy said to his brother, "Where does our mother find so much corn?  We should follow her and find out."  So when Selu took her basket and went to the provision house, her sons followed.  No corn was left in the provision house, but Selu did not seem to mind.  As the boys watched, Selu placed her basket in the center of the room and danced around the basket in a circle seven times, letting her pale hair fly around her.  And as she danced, corn fell from her body into the basket.  When they saw this magic, Wild Boy said to his brother, "I don't think we can do that.  Our mother must be a witch."

Like mothers everywhere, Selu instinctively knew just what mischief her boys were up to.  When she returned from the provision house with her basket, she knew their curiosity had broken the spell, and she knew what she must do.  "I will die soon, and my spirit will go to the end of the world where the sun comes up," she told her boys, "but I will always provide for my children, for all my children." 

She told them how to prepare her body.  She told what they must do, how they should clear the land in front of their lodge, how they should draw her body around the circle seven times, how they should keep watch all night. And in the morning, she told them, her body would be gone but corn would grow all round them. 

"When I leave you, I will still be with you," she told them, "and when your path leads you to the end of the world beyond the setting sun, I will be there to welcome you."

The boys followed her instructions, more or less.  Clearing the ground was hard work and Wild Boy was easily distracted, so they only managed to clear the ground in seven spots.  This is why corn does not grow everywhere in the world. 

But Selu, with a mother's wisdom and endless love for her children, was true to her promise.  In the morning, stalks of corn grew all around the brothers, and in each stalk they found strands of Selu's pale hair, silks the color of sunlight on water.  We find these still today, when the corn ripens and we receive the harvest of the Corn Woman's blessings. 

And so we know that Selu is still with us, still providing for us, for all her children.
 

Cerridwen had a rather unpromising son named Afagddu and more promising plan. She wished for her son to have all the wisdom of the mysteries of the world, and she wanted to give this to him. It was an ambitious piece of spellwork, even for her, which required that just the right blend of magical herbs be kept boiling in her cauldron for a full year and a day. The brew itself would be poisonous, but the first three drops that sprang from the cauldron on the appointed day would contain all the divine inspiration Cerridwen wanted for her son.

So she went to work, and it was hard work mixing the potion and keeping that cauldron boiling. She hired an old blind man named Morda to tend the fire and a clever young boy named Gwion Bach to stir the brew. The year passed, the cauldron bubbled, and Cerridwen grew tired. She went to her room to rest -- just to close her eyes for a moment, she told herself -- and then fell fast asleep. 

And so, when the fateful drops sprang from the cauldron, it was little Gwion who caught them -- like snowflakes -- on his tongue. The cauldron was blown apart, and so was Gwion. Those drops transformed him, opened him, exploded him, expanded him. He could do anything. He understood everything. And at that moment he understood just how much trouble he was in.

He had stolen magic from Cerridwen and her baby boy, and he could feel her rage boiling over, hotter than the smoking cauldron that lay burst upon the floor and more venomous than the brew that leaked out of it.

Cerridwen was awake. She was pissed. And she was coming for him.

With a thought he was gone, racing across the moor in the shape of a hare. And Cerridwen was a hound chasing after him. Just as she pounced, Gwion dove into the river and swam away as a fish. And Cerridwen was an otter chasing after him. Just as the otter swiped at his tail, Gwion jumped into the air and flew away as a bird. And Cerridwen was a hawk chasing after him. Before the hawk could swoop down on him, Gwion dove into a pile of winnowed wheat and hid there – a kernel of grain among other kernels of grain.

Gwion felt very clever in his perfect disguise. And Cerridwen herself could not tell which kernel was Gwion, not even when she became a great black hen and gobbled up all the grain in her beak and swallowed. And that was the end of Gwion Bach.

But that's not the end of the story. In swallowing Gwion as grain, Cerridwen had taken him into her. She became pregnant with him, and in the fullness of time, gave birth to him. She was still angry with Gwion for his betrayal, but when she looked into the radiant face of the baby she had borne, she found herself unable to do him harm. Instead she cast the child on the waters of the river, wrapped warm and dry inside a leather bag, and left him to the direction of the current and the mercy of fate.

When he was caught in a net and delivered from the bag by a kindly fisherman named Elphin, the boy who had been Gwion proclaimed himself Taliesin, soon to be known as the greatest of bards, who had sipped inspiration from the cauldron of Cerridwen herself, who had been both dead and alive, born and reborn, swallowed by the Goddess, nurtured inside her, and given rebirth through her. 

He had become Cerridwen's son, gifted by her with all the wisdom of the mysteries of the world, fulfilling Cerridwen's wish in a way even the Mother had not foreseen.
 

A young man often looked out over the graveyards of his people and wondered about the dead.  He wanted to know if they still existed somewhere, and what it might be like there.  He asked his father, who was the village chief, but his father could not answer his questions.  So the chief sent for Badger Old Man to help his son find the answers he needed. 

Badger Old Man came, bringing his wisdom and his medicine with him.  Following the old man’s instructions, the chief prepared his son for the journey just as his people have always prepared the dead.  They dressed the young man in a white kilt, blackened his chin with shale, and tied an eagle feather to his forehead.  Badger Old Man spread a white robe on the floor for the young man to lie on.  Then the old man gave the boy medicine to eat to send him on his journey.  “He will go far away,” Badger Old Man told the chief, placing more medicine in the boy’s ear and on his heart.  “But you will be able to call him back, and he will return to you.”

Finally, Badger Old Man wrapped the robe around the young man, and the journey began.  Leaving his body behind him, the young man found a road leading away to the west and followed it.  He met a woman along the way who asked him what he was doing.  He explained his quest to reach the land of the dead.  She told him that she was going to the same place, but that she had not followed the straight path in life, and her journey to the land of the dead – the skeleton house – would take a very long time.

The young man continued to follow the path.  He came eventually to the edge of a cliff.  “Why have you come here?” asked the chief who was sitting there.  The young man again explained his quest, and the chief pointed to the skeleton house, far below them at the bottom of the cliff, hidden from sight by a great cloud of smoke.  Then the chief spread the young man’s kilt out on the ground and asked him to sit on top of it.  He lifted the young man up and threw him over the edge of the bluff, and the kilt flew him safely and gently to the ground below.

As the young man continued on his way he met Skeleton Woman.  He asked her the source of the great cloud of smoke he had seen in the distance.  She told him that destruction lay at the end of that path and that he must not go that way, but that he should continue on the road he was traveling to reach the skeleton house.  Following her instructions and keeping to the path he soon reached his destination.

When he arrived, he saw children playing, and soon met other people.  “Who are you?” they asked.  He told them he was the son of the village chief from Shongopovi, and they directed him to the house of the Bear clan so that he could join his ancestors.  The ladder that led to the house was made of sunflower stems and could not hold the weight of a living man, so he could not reach the house. 

Instead the skeleton people brought him food to eat, and laughed when he put it in his mouth.  They explained that the dead eat only the aroma of the food, which is its soul.

When the young man had finished his meal, his hosts asked him why he had come.  He explained that he wanted to learn about their existence in the land of the dead.  He was able to see for himself what it was like.  The skeleton people told him that they missed the light of the land of the living, and that they lived poorly here in the skeleton house.  The young man reminded them that life could be hard in the living world, especially when the rains didn’t come, and when the crops failed.  The young man and the skeleton people discussed these problems, and agreed on a plan to help each other.

By this time, the young man could hear his parents wailing for him, and he went back the way he came.  The young man returned to his body, and Badger Old Man unwrapped the robe, washed away the shale and medicine, and discharmed him.  The young man’s family fed him and asked him what he had learned, and he told them all that he had experienced.

Then he shared with them the agreement he had made with the skeleton people – that the living should make prayer offerings to enrich the lives of the skeleton people, and that the skeleton people would send rains and good crops to the living. 

And that is how the living and the dead learned to work together for the benefit of all.

Source note:  The above story is a retelling of a traditional Hopi tale.  See American Indian Myths and Legends. New York: Pantheon Books, 1984, or read it online at http://www.sacred-texts.com/nam/hopi/toth/toth_029.htm.

Sitting inside my house on October 31st listening to the wind and the rustle of the dead leaves outside, finally finished with all the preparations for our family dinner and the ritual that will happen at midnight. Our family comes together every year for the feast we share with those loved ones, which have passed on. But on this night there was a special guest who has never visited us before and we were both pleasantly surprised and shocked. For we had never had a visit with visuals before. We always felt the presence of dear friends and family members who were no longer with us, but this was special and somehow inspired us and especially me, for the rest of this year and the next. 

I had just had my first child in August the year before, a Leo baby. She was darling, but the one thing that saddened my heart was that her Grandfather would never meet our little one. She had dark hair like her grandfather and somehow had managed to get his dimples, which somehow seemed to skip both of his girl children. I had always wondered how he would feel about our religious views, but always felt that he would somehow understand and except them, maybe even share in our rituals if he had lived. 

As the guests started arriving, there was a chill in the air. Coven brothers and sisters, family and other friends who would only stay for the dinner commented on the chill that was not just outside, but inside as well. We started dinner a little later than planned, as we seem to live on pagan standard time. And as we ate my little one started giggling and tossing stuff in the direction of the empty place setting. We all just giggled with her and shared in her delight, though we could not see what she was seeing. As the meal was ending, there was a flare of light from the chair that she could not take her eyes off of that whole night.  We all sat back in shock. Even though we are mostly all witches here in this household to truly see something like this is still difficult to deal with even when it is Samhain. 

The light flared brighter as we sat in awe and wonder. I could not stop from wondering who this was and why show themselves now after having so many of these dinners year in and year out. The lights started to take on a form and it was definitely a man. A man with dark hair and has he became more visible, dimples in his smile. At that moment I realized it was my father, coming from the land of the dead to see his precious granddaughter and to let me know that he was proud of me and the life I had created for myself and family. With his smile the air in the dining room warmed and our little giggled even louder as the image of my father floated towards her. She was not afraid of this apparition that appeared and moved towards her. She lifted her arms in the way she does when she wants a hug from one of us as though she knew this man, never having met him. He turned from her to me and smiled. At that point I broke into both laughter and tears. This was a dream come true. And in the years to come would be the one memory in hard times that would keep me going. So remember on Samhain set a place for those who have gone before. They may just surprise you with a visit if you do.  Brightest Blessings and have a Happy Samhain. 
 

So Janet, being Janet, lost no time in getting there.

She dressed in her best green gown and roamed the woods, sadly, without incident, but she soon lost her disappointment in the beauty of the forest around her.  Just as she decided to go back to the castle, she found herself entering a small clearing ringed with oak trees.  At the center of the clearing bloomed a marvelous rose that seemed to be waiting just for her.

Now, Janet knew that when visiting another castle one should never take anything without at least asking permission, but she didn't realize that the same held true in the forest.  Oh, someone might have tried to tell her this, but Janet paid no attention to people telling her what not to do.  So when she saw the rose, she walked straight to it and plucked it from the bush.

At that moment a voice boomed out behind her: "How dare you pluck that rose without asking my leave!"

Janet turned -- after taking a moment to arrange the flower in her hair -- and that was when she saw the knight.  He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, with shining black hair and warm gray eyes.  She thought of the story of the elf-knight and half-expected him to fade into the mist, but he stood there -- as real and solid as she was -- with his eyes fixed on the rose in her hair and flashing silver in anger.

Janet thought how beautiful those eyes were, and then, being Janet, told him that she would pick any flower she liked, anywhere she liked, and she would never, ever, ask his leave for anything as long as she lived!  And the knight, whose name was Tam Lin, fell in love with her on the spot.  He burst into laughter, and his smile took Janet's breath away, and perhaps her heart as well.

They met in the clearing whenever Janet could slip away from the castle, which wasn't often enough.  When she was with Tam Lin, Janet felt her heart could burst with joy, and when they were apart she felt her heart could break from the pain.  She felt sick with the strain of it, and the ladies of the castle noticed that Janet grew pale and distracted.  They whispered that she had fallen under the spell of the elf-knight.  Janet heard them, and told them to mind their own bloody business, but part of her wondered, and part of her knew.

So she went directly to Tam Lin and asked him straight-out if he were mortal or faerie, and he told her that the answer was not as simple as the question.  He had been born as human as she, but one day the young knight rode the wrong way around a faerie mound and found himself spirited away to the otherworld, where he became a knight of the Faerie Queen's court and a favorite of the Queen herself.  He told her that Elf-land was a fair country, and he could happily stay there, but for two things.

The first, of course, was Janet.  The elf-knight's heart was still human, and he loved her with all of it.  The second thing was that he feared he had little time left in either world.  The Queen paid a tithe to the Netherworld every seven years, and this year Tam Lin feared he would be sacrificed as payment.

Janet was horrified.  At the thought of losing Tam Lin, the pain of her heart throbbed, and she knew it for what it was -- the pain of separation from the other half of her soul, as human and as magical as love itself.  And she knew her sickness for what it was as well.  She touched her hands to her stomach and smiled.

Janet insisted that there must be some way to free Tam Lin so that they could be together, but he said it was too dangerous.  She seized on this, knowing that if the path was dangerous, then at least the path existed.  She told him they must try, for themselves, and for the child she now felt growing inside her.  And Tam Lin told her there was a way, if she were very brave, and very sure.  And Janet, being Janet, was both.

The next night was All Hallow's Eve, when the walls between the worlds fade, and -- as everyone knows -- the faerie host rides out in procession.  And, as she and Tam Lin had planned, Janet was waiting for them at the crossroads.  She drew a protective circle around herself, and ducked out of sight to wait.  As the first company approached on coal-black horses, Janet had no eyes for the beauty of the procession.  She was watching only for her love.  The second company, mounted all on fine brown steeds, road by. And finally the third came into view, with Tam Lin leading on a milk-white steed.  As the third company approached, Janet sprang into action.  She leaped from her hiding place and caught the white horse's reins, then threw both arms around Tam Lin and pulled him willingly from the saddle, caught in the circle of her arms.  She had won him, but to keep him she would have to hold onto him, no matter what happened.

The faerie host cried out that Tam Lin had been stolen away, but the terrible cry of the Faerie Queen rang out above the others.  She railed that she would have rather changed Tam Lin's human heart to one of stone than to lose him to another, that she would have rather taken his eyes than to have him look on another woman with love, that she would have paid the tithe seven times over rather than part with him.  The cry rang in Janet's ears, but she knew she must hold on.  Before her eyes, Tam Lin was transformed into a bucking stag, but Janet knew her love -- she could still feel him in her arms -- and she held on.  He took other forms, a writhing snake, a red-hot iron bar, but Janet knew her love, and she held on.  Finally, the faerie magic was exhausted and Tam Lin reverted to his first form, that of a mortal man.  Janet threw her cloak around him and knew she had won.

The faerie host faded into the mist, the faerie queen's wail faded into the wind, and the silver light faded from Tam Lin's gray eyes.  But those eyes lit with a new fire when he met Janet's gaze.  He saw the question in her eyes, and he nodded, then he smiled at her as he had that first day in the forest.  Janet caught her breath, and, gently taking his hand in hers, she took her husband home.