It was a cool, rainy autumn day in southeast Ohio.  The county road cut through slate hillsides – and was clear of traffic most of the way.  On a recent trip to Ohio I decided to make a detour and visit Serpent Mound, the largest effigy mound in the world (at least that’s what the sign says)…

Since I’ve been working with Ced, a traditional craft coven, for the last 10+ years – traveling around the country and to other countries has become a very different experience.  Sight now opens new and unexpected doors.  From the merchant mummy at the Getty Villa who was bitter about what ancient Egyptian religion missed on life after death to a Scottish waterfall that spoke in Gaelic (Air Mor doon or “On Big/great down”), there is so much more to see and hear now. Seeing the world with spirit, well – it all becomes a much, much bigger place. 

Honestly, there have been times when it feels like too much – spirit overload. Museums can be so noisy with spirit I have to find a quiet garden bench away from it all to ground.  Earlier in my journey, I wasn’t prepared for what may open and it’s cost me – sometimes just a little silver gets taken/lost and sometimes it’s a physical hit – like learning the hard way that St. Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican is actually warded and does not like witches.  It felt like I got food poisoning every time I stepped foot in the actual chapel to see the beautiful ceiling. 

This year, the week before Thanksgiving, I visited Serpent Mound. On the drive there, I felt a familiar turn of my stomach that let me know spirit was near – telling me “Hey, pay attention!”  You learn once you’re at Serpent Mound that the Mound and the surrounding area sit inside a crater from a meteor that struck millions of years ago.  That “Hey, pay attention!” begins right around the outer limits of the meteor crater.

Pulling into the long drive and then parking – you first see some construction where they’re rebuilding the watchtower. Serpent Mound is best seen from above as if the original builders were creating something only the gods could see.   Fields of grass sit just off the parking area and you can see that despite the small construction project, this area remains undeveloped and fairly pristine.  There are two burial mounds, marked by small signs, on either side of the parking area. I note they do not want to be observed in any way and move toward the small gift shop/museum down the walk. It looks like an old log cabin, divided into a couple of rooms. The ranger points me down the path towards the mound. I mistakenly ask if you can walk on Serpent Mound – and was told, “No, you’ll need to stay on the path.”  I’d asked for permission and now was (technically) unable to ask for forgiveness if I stumbled onto the mound to explore. 

Surrounded by many birch and oak trees, and a cliff to the west with a river winding below, Serpent Mound is set in an idyllic nature-filled landscape.  The raised serpent coils around a hilltop, running about the length of three football fields.  The ranger and signs say not to disturb the sacred Native American land, but unlike the burial mounds dotted around the outskirts, which had a distinctly “Don’t look or bother with us,” message, I could hear the Serpent Mound calling out.  It invited me to lay on the ground inside its many curves or inside the oval shaped serpent head.  It wanted connection. 

I resisted, at first, choosing to explore the grounds around the Mound that were not marked out of bounds.  Off the paved path, the ground was buzzing and the call was louder.  With literally no one else around besides me and my partner, I decided to step onto the head of the serpent – kneeling and placing my hands on the wet ground.  It was an immediate shift into darkness, and I saw many people gathering with fires all around and stories being told in the cold, dark night.  I heard, “In the dark times, you find the light,” and “A time to make peace with your gods and family.” Serpent Mound felt old, ancient and part of traditions long past – separate from the burial mounds around the land.  I also heard a language I didn’t recognize and I tried to write it down phonetically, “Chay Cah nah,” and I’m still unsure of any meaning but it felt important and so I took note.  

I left Serpent Mound feeling connected – and not just to the serpent itself, but to my own tribe of Ced, my gods, the spirits that walk with me, and the wintertide rolling in. 

For many, many years – I was disconnected from my sight.  Growing up a southern baptist, I shut it down – feeling afraid of it and hearing those kinds of things were evil and bad.  As I began to explore a new spiritual path, my sight still felt like something too scary and I didn’t want to listen.  Now, within the Ced family – I’ve learned to trust being open and listening to spirit.  Sometimes – it still feels a bit scary, and I’m working to be more comfortable seeing and knowing things and then mediating what I see.  But now, I try to listen and be open to what spirit may share.

As we all move into winter and Yuletide and travel for family and friends, I invite you to welcome the spirits you encounter or who walk with you to join you for a meal or a toast – and I encourage you to listen…..maybe they have something new to tell you.