Great piece on the Wild Hunt

[sunwyn]

Penance, Power, and Pursuit:
On the Trail of the Wild Hunt
by Ari Berk and William Spytma
The calkins clinkered to a spark
The hunter called the pack;
The sheep-dogs' fells all bristled stark
And all their lips went back.


"Lord God," the shepherds said, "They come,
And see what hounds he has;
All dripping bluish fire and dumb,
And nosing to the grass.


"And trotting scatheless through the gorse,
And bristling in the fell:
Lord, it is death upon the horse,
And they're the hounds of hell!"


—John Masefield
from "The Hounds of Hell"
Even in Winter, you are not safe. Stay indoors, attend your hearths. Try to keep the night at bay by the telling of your tongue. Remember your kin, honor your ancestors. For at this time the dead begin to stir, riding upon hallowed and familiar roads, galloping through villages and wastes, flying through the forests of the mind. Such raids are reminders that the past is not a dead thing, but may return, like a hunter, to follow us for a time.

More at this link: http://www.endicott-studio.com/rdrm/forhunt.html