The Rootstick Tide Wands began under the luminous gaze of the Strawberry Moon. That night, I placed my selenite out to charge under the moonlight. By morning, I felt an undeniable pull—like the materials themselves were asking to be gathered. Driftwood and discarded spatulas. Feathers, coral, bones. Beads and buttons waiting to be strung. I listened. I followed the current. And I began to make.
These wands are not ornamental. They are ritual tools—conduits for renewal, rebirth, and release. Each one is wrapped with intention and woven from the thresholds between land and sea, spirit and body, memory and motion.
Reading The Way of the Eight Winds by Nigel Pennick helped me name what I was already feeling: that each wand aligns with directional energies. North for stillness. East for new breath. South for fire and transformation. West for the tides we release into. These elemental currents are embedded in every fiber, shell, and knot.
The tarot’s Eight of Wands captures the same urgency I felt while making them—swift movement, decisive action, a rush of spiritual momentum. These are wands for those standing at a threshold. For those who know it’s time to let go, call something in, or begin again.
Each wand holds charged selenite and moonlight. Each wand is a spell. A signal. A tether to the unseen forces moving us forward.
If you feel called, trust the pull. The wind doesn’t wait.
