Sunseeker [11/07/2022]

[306 words/1min read]

Where the myth of the lycanthrope ties metamorphosis to the moon, my own shapeshifting follows the sun.

Spiritually, it is the light and the warmth that calls to me, that makes my skin tight and the sky beckon to me. The winter is my time of dormancy, and my time of pain, psychological issues layering above the lethargy I feel during the colder months.

When the Sun starts to emerge again, I feel once more alive. It has always been the time where witchcraft and the unseen calls to me.

I am a desert bird, so it is rather logical that my heart belongs to the heat of summer and the smell of burnt dust. It's however rather rare in the community for therianthropes to feel this reversal of the usual myth, with the Sun replacing the Moon, and it has become something very personal to me in my beliefs. I truly feel powered by the sun, like my vitality itself depends on it.

In general, my facets tends to be from warmer climates, but I don't think one symbolizes my reverence to the sun more than the roadrunner, who bathes in it and evolved to withstand it. It's own plumage seems suntouched with burnt white hot tips and the colors of the desert, the eyes adorned of the red orange glaze of flames, and the gaze itself crowned of sheer gold like an eclipse.

I use the sun heat and its light in spells, to purge, to vitalize, to be reborn in that way of folkloric bird who fly to It to be born once again from their ashes. It is as psychological as it is spiritual, and my faith sways from one to another without impacting my constant tie to the Sun as a symbol.