Today, I went to the shore of the sea to return some things I’d borrowed to decorate my altar. I’m in the process of rearranging it and didn’t need them anymore so I figure I’d give them back and take the opportunity to blot to Njord and Freya Mardöll. I prayed for help and for that dear inspiration, whose ebb and flow evade me.
As I stood there, it hit me that maybe it evades me because I try so hard to grasp it. A flowing thing naturally falls through your finger when you try to catch it in your hands.
Son Of Freya 