The Turning Year

The year turns - Seasons change - Life continues

The Turning Year is the current through which all life flows.
At its heart, the Turning Year breathes a sacred pulse through which every living being is woven. In this old dance, life unfolds: growth comes from stillness, fullness turns into release, and rest holds us in its arms. The turning year is a circle shaped by the seasons’ wisdom, by shifting light and shadow, and by that deep knowing within us: each moment calls for its own way of being.

With Samhain’s veiling comes a quiet threshold; only after the first new moon does the year truly begin. In the quiet of winter, the birch holds a silent promise. New beginnings emerge not from striving to achieve our desires, but from the things we cherish deeply. The year stirs beneath frost and silence; it whispers before it sings—a pause between heartbeats as all creation waits for movement to return.

The seasons change. Each step is an invitation to listen more closely to the song of life as it unfolds. What is placed into the earth in spring is carried through the fullness of summer, released in autumn, and held once more through winter’s care. Nothing is rushed. Each moment arrives in its time, preparing the way for what follows.

The Turning Year does not ask us to follow it. It is already moving through us.

Winter

The world rests - Life turns inward - The land is quiet

Winter is the season of rest and stillness.
Winter brings a time for quiet. As the light recedes and the days get shorter, our spirits are called for warmth, shelter, and anything that nurtures the soul.

Ancient wisdom comes to the fore, not as an instruction but as remembrance – tending the quiet flame within while the world rests. Knowledge is carried through the winter not by growth but by memory—passed quietly, often without words.

Within the Turning Year, the cycle begins here. The tree calendar opens in winter, guided by the first new moon, marking the return to beginnings rather than endings. What is held now becomes the ground from which the year will rise again.

Winter brings an invitation from the earth to pause and to let go. The trees surrender, shedding their leaves. Beneath frozen soil and silent branches, nothing vanishes; it simply waits. A new life, hope, or dream rests here, waiting for its moment to rise again. In winter, animals remain close, often unseen, held within the quiet of the season.

You are invited to pause on The Living Path.

Spring

The world awakens - Potential unfolds - New life emerges

Spring is the season of awakening and renewal.
When spring arrives, the natural world starts to awaken. It serves as a gentle reminder that nothing happens suddenly. Life quietly stirs, the days lengthen, and it begins to move once more – slowly at first.

Growth here isn't forced; it happens as naturally as breathing. Change and patience go hand in hand; each bud and leaf is shaped by what came before. The arrival of spring not only ushers in a season of hope and renewal but also invites us to explore the hidden potential within us.

Life comes back to the land and to our spirits. Everywhere we look, we see signs that the universe is whispering, "It is time to begin again."

The animals who step forward in spring come with a feeling of abundance. Each arrives in rhythm with the land, the light, and the moment itself—companions shaped by spring’s renewal rather than messengers sent to explain it.

You are invited to step onto The Living Path of renewal.

Summer

Growth is present - Days lengthen - Nature is abundant

Summer is the season of fullness and expression.

What was once just a whisper of possibility now stands before you, embodied and alive. This is the season when growth walks with confidence. The longest day arrives; the light stretches to touch every living leaf. At this point life is being shared freely. Summer is not a tentative time; growth stands fully expressed.

In that stillness within plenty, presence deepens—reminding us that even at fullness, we are held within cycles much larger than ourselves. Animals cross our path now with ease at this time, moving openly through the season of abundance. Their presence reflects on life lived without withholding—nothing withheld or hidden from view. Life expresses itself fully here: among all who share this living ground.

You are invited to walk in gratitude for all that has ripened along The Living Path.

Autumn

Leaves fall - Harvest gathers - Shadows lengthen

Autumn is the season of gathering and release.
Light softens across the land, and as the days draw in, the world’s pace begins to quiet. What has grown during these months is gathered and cared for. The earth receives what has reached its end, returning it gently without resistance.

This season invites reflection as a companion — not for judgement, but for honest seeing. The sky and the ground alike bear witness to what has been shaped through time, effort, and care.

Autumn brings a moment of reckoning, where value is recognised and excess is released. As the land grows quieter, wisdom is distilled. Seeds are saved, lessons are carried forward, and attention turns toward what must be preserved through the coming dark.

As autumn continues along the path, animals respond in their time. Some gather beneath the softening sky; others prepare quietly at the edge of woods and fields, while some slip away into stillness. Their movements follow the changing light—guided by wisdom that knows when to hold close and when to let go.

You are invited to accept change along The Living Path.

Panoramic forest scene showing the Turning Year through the seasons, with a silver birch in winter.

The Tree Calendar

Trees shape the year - The moon holds time - The year turns

As the year turns, the moon and trees shape time. The moon phases guide us through each month. The trees hold the deeper rhythm of staying grounded and rooted in the present moment.

The Tree Calendar begins after Samhain with the first New Moon. In winter’s stillness, Birch opens the year, not through outward action, but by holding quiet beginnings beneath the surface. From there, each month unfolds in relation to the moon’s cycle, with a tree presence carrying the tone of that time as the seasons turn.

This calendar is not a system to follow or memorise. The Tree Calendar offers a way of noticing how time is lived—measured by light and darkness, shaped by growth and rest, and held within the living presence of the land.

The trees and our animal companions are deeply connected; animals are spiritually attuned to the energies the trees hold.

As the year turns, animals step forward within these rhythms. Some remain close for a season; others appear briefly, arriving in response to time, place, and change. Each animal is met within the living flow of the turning year, not assigned or fixed, but present in relationship to the moment itself.