Dear Diary and Lost Souls,
Tonight, Grandmama and I gathered in the dimly lit parlor, adorned with her shawl woven with ancient symbols. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting an ethereal glow on her attire.
As we whispered solstice spells and incantations, Grandmama and I delved into memories of the winter solstice, a time of darkness and rebirth. It was a moment when the sun was at its lowest point, and our family's traditions embraced the return of the light.
With the memory of the winter solstice in mind, Grandmama's guidance, and the moon's presence, I resume my moon-based rituals for Halloween preparations, knowing that the cycles of light and dark are forever entwined.
Until the morrow, Wednesday