Witch Balls, Kugels, Windy Weather, and Tears

Our gardens have been adorned for the last couple of years with these iron "sun sticks" and the mouth-blown glass orbs that are sometimes called kugels (friendship balls) or witch balls. T's has a lovely, sunny, amber colored ball that is a swirl of golds, reds, and oranges. Mine, very much like the picture, was full of blues and smoky purples. Our gardens shimmered from day to night with these enchanting bits.

The lore of witch balls goes back centuries, originating in England and then continuing in New England. These intricate glass globes were thought to provide protection from mischievious spirits and negative energy. Hung in a window or doorway, a witch ball would attract the attention of the troublesome spirit, who would then be drawn into the interior and trapped there forever. Hence, witch balls preserved the harmony of the household...

Ours, displayed on their heavy ornamental stands, have stood in our gardens for some time now (T's will be three years old this summer, and mine was new last summer). Both were purchased as gifts to commemorate anniversaries -- the 6th anniversary is marked with iron and glass.

Friday night, the weather here turned windy. It had been rainy for a number of days. We went to bed without any thought about the winds, but I slept very badly, plagued by some insomnia and then disturbing dreams when I did sleep. I got up Saturday morning, feeling groggy and unsettled. Opening the blinds on my patio, I glanced out and saw... my witch ball and its iron stand ripped from the soggy earth and crashed to the ground outside my door. My beautiful glass globe was smashed to a thousand glittering blue shards in the grass. I gasped with shock, and then went out into the rainy morning, to pick up the pieces. As I worked, still barely awake, I began to sob, tears running down my face. It seemed to me there in the gray morning, that the shattered glass was emblematic of my own brokeness. By the time I got back inside, and back to Master, I was a mess -- miserable and heartbroken over what I am sure seemed a silly triviality.

He, nonetheless, held me, patted me, murmured soft assurances into my incoherent babblings -- and then fled to T. Together, they found the supplier of the witch balls where the first ones were purchased, and within a very few minutes, a replacement globe was ordered. The one that is coming is as close as it was possible to get to the original. It was the only thing I could say clearly to Him -- I wanted it to be like it was.

swan