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i don't believe that you become a witch. it was within and around you all along.
every time you'd collect rocks as a child, or spoke to the moon when you needed comfort, or even when that warm, tingling sensation would hit you while walking in the woods. it was always the little things that didn't quite make sense.
it was calling to you, remember that. you're no less just because you figured it out later.
moss —
it grows everywhere. it takes over even the simplest of structure. but do not fret, because once you appreciate its' beauty, it will become your friend. it is necessary.
mushrooms are forest babies, sacred and protected and loved. respect them. they are a powerful tool.