Omen Deck - card 13

Card number 13 - the black dog at the cliff

This card has a place in my heart as a profound moment in my dedication to the Craft.

In the image, there is a black dog with sunlight in their eyes, standing on the edge of a cliff. Behind them is the ocean and a glimpse of the shore.

The photograph was taken while travelling across the Cyclades in 2018, on the island of Thira (Santorini). I’ve walked from the village of Fira to the west-most point of the island, the village Oia, which apparently hosted an unforgettable sunset of a lifetime.

The entire journey across Europe was intended as a culmination of an initiation with the Wildwood tradition… and this particular leg of the journey was steeped in marrying my dedication to both Hermes and the Wildwood. I wanted to go to the land that my beloved Hermes arose from… I wanted to smell the air, listen to the spirits, hear the wind, and understand how it felt to be close in proximity to the messenger god.

So here I am, on my own with nothing but my camera, a backpack of snacks and offerings, and a fabled sunset to witness. I find a little perch on the cliffs away from the village, and cast a circle, inviting Hermes, as well as the gods of the Wildwood to witness this moment with me. As the sun begins to dip into the ocean, this dog appears from nowhere, circling me, watching me. They’re friendly and curious in their demeanor, but they don’t come close, they simply watch.

Within the circle, I enter a trance like state, and open a dialogue with Hermes and the Wildwood gods. I want each to understand that my dedication to one doesn’t detract from my dedication to the other. That if I were to complete the initiation, it would be in service to both. They listen, but with tenderness and a slight exasperation… of course, they already know this: this dialogue is more for my own knowing, than it is for their’s. Hermes, charismatic mercurial being that he is, is no stranger to those wild woods.

I watch as the sun dips into the ocean, a vibrant red than I’ve ever seen in a sunset before. I pour some rakomelo as offerings, and listen to the liminal spirits of twilight as the day slips into night. “This time of change is not to be feared, nor forced… the greatest risks are made by leaping into transformation”. When it is truly dark, I open the circle, pack up my stuff and make my way back to my hostel across the other side of the island.

…this image of the dog at the cliff reminds me of that time, and evokes a scent of the Death card… of beginnings and endings, of initiation. The Black Dog appears in some folklores as a warning of death, and played a role in the book “The Pilgrimage” by Paulo Coelho.