The Climb of the Witch!

“The Climb of the Witch”

Let me tell you something about power, hunny.

It’s not always fire and curses and shadow spells under the new moon.

Sometimes it’s standing on your damn tippy toes, balancing like a cursed ballerina on a concrete floor, with a bad knee screaming louder than the spirits, while you try to hang a sacred symbol eight feet up in a sun-scorched greenhouse that feels more like a steaming cauldron than a workspace.

I’m 5'5" on a good day — 5'7" if you count witch boots and spite. But this pentacle? This beast of carved black power? It’s eight feet high, and it knew it. It looked down at me like, “Try me, mortal.”

And I did. With aching joints, a determined grunt, and just enough string to hang the symbol of my path right where it belongs — watching over every single leaf and root in my little sacred jungle.

Because this greenhouse isn’t just for growing herbs.

It’s where I grow spells.

Grow resilience.

Grow the kind of quiet wrath that whispers,

“I may be hurting, but I still rise.”

So if you see that pentacle hanging there like it floated into place with grace and ease — don’t be fooled.

That thing is held up by sweat, willpower, and one very stubborn shadow witch with a busted knee and zero intention of bending to anything but the plants.

Welcome to my altar of green.

Witchcraft lives here.

And yes, I earned every inch of it.

Now come read my free blog, join the Dark Witchery group on my website, and listen to my episodes of The Black Flame Circle — because I’m not just growing plants out here, I’m growing a whole damn rebellion.

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