There’s a certain kind of magic that doesn’t need a big ritual to feel real. It shows up in the little things we’ve been doing since childhood without even thinking of them as spells: blowing wishes into the wind, pulling petals from a flower, staring into the bottom of a teacup, or stopping mid-walk because a dragonfly just crossed your path. That is the kind of magic I love most during the Season of the Witch—the quiet, everyday kind that reminds us nature has been whispering to us all along.
MAKING WISHES WITH DANDELIONS
I don’t think I’ve ever outgrown making wishes on dandelions. There is something so simple and hopeful about it and just plain fun! Maybe the wind carries it somewhere. Maybe the magic is in the believing. Either way, dandelions feel like tiny reminders that wishes do not have to be complicated, and neither does magic. Sometimes it grows right through the cracks and waits for us to notice.
PLUCKING PETALS
Then there is the classic flower spell: “he loves me, he loves me not.” It’s playful, dramatic, and a little silly, but that is part of its charm. I love that something as small as a daisy can become an oracle for a moment. Petal by petal, the question turns into ritual. Whether or not you take the answer seriously, there is something beautiful about letting nature hold the question with you.
DRAGONFLIES
Every time I see one, I take a minute and pause. They feel like little flashes of otherworldly energy—here, gone, shimmering between water and air. Dragonflies remind me of change, movement, and those in-between moments when life is shifting even if we do not fully understand how yet. During this season especially, they feel like a nudge to trust the transformation.
EARTH’S LITTLE TREASURES
I also love the little treasures nature leaves behind. A feather on the sidewalk, an acorn tucked below an oak tree, a smooth stone that somehow feels like it belongs in your pocket—these all feel like tiny charms waiting to be found. I know not every object has to mean something, but sometimes it is comforting to let it. A feather can feel like a message. An acorn can feel like luck and potential. A stone can feel grounding, like carrying a small piece of the earth with you.
APPLES, LEAVES, AND AUTUMN MAGIC
Apples have their own kind of old-fashioned magic. Peeling an apple in one long strip and tossing the peel to see what shape it makes feels like the kind of spell someone learned from a grandmother, whether or not anyone called it witchcraft. Fallen leaves have that same seasonal pull. I like the idea of choosing a leaf for what it represents: red for courage, gold for gratitude, brown for release. Autumn practically hands us symbols and asks what we are ready to let go of.
WIND AND STARS
Some magic is even harder to hold, which might be why I like it so much. The wind moving through trees can sound like a secret being passed from branch to branch. A breeze makes the leaves dance. I still wish on the first star of the night with the childhood prose of “Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight”, even in my crone years.
That is what I love about this time of year. The veil feels a little thinner, the air feels a little more alive, and ordinary things start to feel enchanted again. The Season of the Witch is not only about broomsticks and black cats, though I love those too! It is also about remembering that magic has always been close by—in the weeds, the flowers, the wings, the wind, and the quiet moments when we choose to pay attention.
Leave a comment