Fern Aldridge’s followers

Coven-trained, now happily solitary. Sabbats, circle-casting, and an altar that is mostly cat hair. Twenty-two years under the moon and still learning.

Irish pagan and devotee of Brigid. Poetry, holy wells, and a candle kept for her on Imbolc, with a fire extinguisher kept by the altar always.

Kemetic polytheist. Daily offerings at a bookshelf shrine for Bast and Djehuty. Archivist by trade, so yes, I footnote my prayers.

Astrologer, data analyst, recovering cynic. Mid-Saturn-return and documenting every lesson. I'll read your chart if you stop blaming Mercury for everything.

Sikh. Up before dawn for Japji Sahib, then off to drive a truck across three provinces. Langar volunteer whenever I'm home.

Taoist the old family way: incense for the ancestors, tai chi in the park at dawn, Tao Te Ching on the bus. Water wins by yielding.

Pure Land Buddhist and mother of twins. Chanting Amitabha's name in the school pickup line. Paper lotus lanterns every Vu Lan.

Cornish sea witch. Tide tables pinned by the door, salt in every pocket, and a bad habit of talking to gulls. Storm-watching is my meditation.

Quaker, mostly silent (on purpose). Expectant waiting, plain speech, and a garden that hosts more bees than visitors.

Ceremonial magician working through Golden Dawn and Thelemic material. Banishing ritual each morning, magical diary each night. Discipline, not costume.