The Cailleach
Short Story Written by Eva Greenslade. Its summers end, the air around us changing, the scent in the air is crisp and clear, darkness envelopes our evenings, the earth prepares for her long rest. We have met with Samhain, at the northwest point of the wheel of this years cycle. The landscape around us begins to loose the bright colours of life, apart from the greens that carpet the hills and mountans, the browns of the sleeping trees, the black shapes of the crows through the