Preparing for Autumn: A Hedgewitch’s View.

Autumn has always been my favourite season. There is something in the shift of light, the deepening of colours, and the scent of damp earth that stirs both heart and spirit. The hedgerows grow heavy with berries, and the balance of day and night begins to turn. As a hedgewitch, I see this season not only as a time of beauty but also as a reminder to live more closely with the cycles of nature.

The Autumn Equinox, Mabon and Alban Elfed

The autumn equinox falls around the 22nd–23rd of September, the moment when day and night stand in equal length before the darkness of winter begins its slow return. For the ancient Celts, this was a turning point in the agricultural year. Though we cannot know their exact rituals, the harvest was a central gathering of grain, fruits, and vegetables, not just for food, but for survival through the colder months.

You may know this time of year as Mabon, the name commonly given to the autumn equinox within modern Paganism and the Wheel of the Year. But Mabon is not an ancient Celtic festival, nor was the autumn equinox historically known by this name.

It was Aidan Kelly, an American neopagan writer, who introduced Mabon as a named holiday in the 1970s. Kelly coined this name for the autumn equinox celebration as part of his efforts to shape and balance the eight pagan festivals that would come to be known as the Wheel of the Year.

However, this does create an interesting connection between a modern pagan festival and much older Welsh Mythology.

In Welsh myth, Mabon ap Modron appears in Culhwch ac Olwen, one of the stories traditionally associated with the wider Mabinogion collection. His name means Mabon, son of Modron.

In the tale, Mabon is said to have been taken from his mother when he was only three nights old. He was imprisoned for so long that, by the time Arthur’s men went searching for him, no one knew where he could be found. They had to seek the wisdom of some of the world’s oldest creatures before eventually discovering where Mabon was held and rescuing him.

His mother, Modron, is a fascinating figure in her own right; I do have a blog post on her; find it here. Her name is generally understood to be connected with the ancient Celtic mother goddess Matrona, while Mabon is associated with the older Celtic deity Maponos. The surviving Welsh material gives us only fragments, leaving much about Modron open to interpretation.

I do have a connection with Modron. There is something about her story that speaks to me during this season. From her story, we not only have separation and loss, but there is also the idea of being taken from one state of being into another. A period of time when things may well be beyond your control, and the feeling of not knowing when this period will end.

Autumn is a liminal time; the natural world is changing around us, yet winter has not yet fully arrived. The trees are shedding their leaves and the days are getting shorter. We find ourselves somewhere in between what has been and what is still to come. For many, this may bring a feeling of sadness; I will discuss more of this in another post later this month.

There are times in our lives when we cannot hurry a process or control its outcome. Sometimes, all we can do is sit with the uncertainty and allow things to unfold in their own time.

For me, autumn is a natural time to pause and reflect on what I have gathered throughout the year so far. I often turn to my journal and consider what I want to carry forward, what I need to let go of, and what I have learned along the way.

I also think about the things I cannot control. Sometimes there may be something I can change, and sometimes there isn’t. When I cannot change the situation itself, I can look at how I respond to it. Is there something I can do to change my reaction or feelings, or something that might help me feel more comfortable while I sit with the uncertainty?

Folklore of Blackberries and Fairies

In English folklore, blackberries mark the season’s shift. Some tales caution against picking late-season berries because they belonged to the fair folk and were best left untouched. To gather them carelessly was to risk insult or misfortune.

These warnings reminded people to respect seasonal boundaries and to acknowledge that not everything in the hedgerows is ours to claim.

In other tales, blackberries were believed to be safe to pick only until the 29th of September. After this date, it was said that the Devil himself had spat, trampled or peed upon them, making them bitter and unfit to eat.

I think there are two takeaways from these stories berries left too long will rot, but leave some for the fairies!

Sticking with fairies for a moment, in certain strands of folklore, September 29th is believed to be the day when the doors to the fairy realm opened. Gwynn ap Nudd, often named in Welsh legend as the Lord of Faerie, was said to hold the keys to these hidden realms. For one brief moment, mortals might glimpse what lay beyond, though the stories always warned them to return before the gates closed or risk being trapped among the fae forever! However, this appears to be a modern invention rather than being based on any known myths about Gwynn ap Nudd, but it’s always good to be cautious, as you never know!

Living with the Season

Preparing for autumn is both practical and spiritual. Birds, hedgehogs, and squirrels are busy now, gathering food and strength for the cold. Leaving wild corners in the garden and filling feeders helps birds thrive. It keeps the fairyfolk happy, too.

Autumn also calls us to let go. As trees shed their leaves, we too are invited to release what no longer serves us. This can be as simple as decluttering a drawer, letting go of an old habit, or acknowledging a burden you no longer wish to carry. Reflection comes naturally as the nights lengthen; journaling, dusk walks, or quiet moments at the hearth all help us align with the inward turn of the year.

Ritual for the Turning Season

A simple ritual can honour this change. Light a candle to mark the balance of day and night, and take time to speak aloud three things you are thankful for and three things you are ready to release. When you are finished, return something to nature: a piece of bread for the birds or a little water to the soil, as a gesture of thanks.

Food to honour the earth

Cooking with autumn produce is another way to embody the season. Apples, pears, root vegetables, and squashes carry the spirit of the harvest. Preparing a stew, roasting roots, or baking apples is both nourishment and ritual. Eating what the land provides at this time of year is a way of honouring its cycles.

Closing Thoughts

Autumn teaches that change is natural and beautiful. It asks us to seek balance, to prepare, to give thanks, and to release. For me, the colours of autumn are not only beautiful, but they are alive with meaning. May your autumn be rich with gratitude, reflection, and the quiet magic of turning leaves.