Under Raven’s moon, next to a sacred lake, a tiny woman unbraided her waterfall of raven hair. A bonfire awaited her grey stained smock and high apron, tattered stockings. She arranged next to the fire, sheets of linen for drying; salves, scented oils. Bundles of herbs and plants to be put in the fire; new sprigs of dried lavender and ribbons to braid into her hair.

As a healer, she bathed often, sluicing blood, pus and evil off her skin. But the icy lake waters truly cleansed her heart, soul and spirit. She dove deep into the moon-specked waters, surfacing, breathless and numb from the cold. She could feel the chill waters sucking out and absorbing the toxins, cleansing her body, her heart, soul and spirit.

She searched the shoreline for the fire’s warm glow, and kicked hard for the beach. Wrapping herself in layers of linen, she threw sweet…