At this time of year, it really feels as though there's magic in the air. The air smells sweet (it's actually the sap rising apparently) and then we reach that special time when the bluebells fill the woodlands with their fairy magic. Whenever I see them in the woods, their beauty is almost overwhelming at times and it reminds me how real magic is.
I think many of us lose touch with that sense of magic that some of us may have been lucky enough to come to know as a child (I was brought up in an unspoilt village five minutes from the seaside with woodlands, fields and streams - I spent an almost wild childhood as my lovely mother recognised my need for that freedom). However, it is there. I feel it all the time when I'm reading the tarot: that sense that almost lifts up the hairs on the back of your neck, or just drops words into your head (that are kind and uplifting, not filled with negativity), that feeling of certaintly, trust and faith in whatever we believe.
It's really good to see that tarot is becoming more mainstream and accepted as a way of providing comfort and guidance to people (which is of course what it's always been) but for me it's also that same feeling as being out in the woods or by the sea - a wild magic that for some reason rests at my fingertips when I lay out the cards. Wonderful!
