Wild Woman Creates

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Wild Woman Creates Womens Circles & womens pysche workshops in Edinburgh, Scotland. New Moon & Full Moon circles in-person and online. No particular path or belief system required.

Safe and sacred space for women, inclusive, open to all 18yrs+ women (cis & trans). Wild Woman Creates is series of offerings to community for women and our trans sisters to gather in the sacred space of circle to explore our own inner wisdom and resources for self nourishment, deep wisdom and self acceptance. I am based in Edinburgh Scotland but many of my circles are online so you can join in from anywhere! I also offer Womens/womxns workshops based around hand crafting and exploration of our life transitions, and a regular Wisdom Weavers Circle for exploring our elderwoman years through the Wise Woman archetype. These are entirely my own creation born from my own menopause journey, the gathering of years, and my desire for conscious eldering as we reclaim, rediscover and reinvent ourselves. All crones. Junior crones and wannabe crones so very welcome! All my circles and workshops are informed by natural sciences, folklore, nature connection, handcrafting, ecotherapy, eco-feminism, poetry, personal ritual and more. I hold a diploma in Human Givens brief psychotherapy (currently training for my practitioners licence) and whilst womens circles are not therapy you can be confident that whatever I offer has that safe container of mental health awareness, ethics and respect around it. I believe that in circle we can experience and remember a more human way of being together, a place to uncover our own gifts and resources as we gather around hearth. Hearth is where we are accepted, honoured and empowered to be truly, deeply, unapologetically, authentically ourselves at any stage in our life. Shoulder to shoulder, hands at each other’s backs; we are all born gifted and our gifts are needed in this world! We are all sisters in circle, cis, trans, gay straight, non binary, as long as you are over 18yrs I’d be delighted and honoured if you would join me! with wild woman howls & wise woman blessings,
Tiggy # #

Travelling altar away from home. This is my “women who face north” pouch for personal orientation and a daily reminder t...
21/10/2026

Travelling altar away from home. This is my “women who face north” pouch for personal orientation and a daily reminder that a sense of belonging is carried with us wherever we go. I have several of these hand made, self designed pouches that keep little treasures safely wrapped and help create a focus for daily check-ins. They instantly make an anchor point away from home, and I periodically refresh their contents. I found a sweet little felted autumnal green man (meant to be a decoration) that is perfect for bringing in the season and adding a different balance to my bedside away from home.

🍁🍂🧡

Apple harvest….I am lucky to have relatives with an apple and plum orchard nestled in bucolic country famed for its orch...
17/10/2026

Apple harvest….
I am lucky to have relatives with an apple and plum orchard nestled in bucolic country famed for its orchards in general so in the last few days I have carried home armfuls of heritage varieties like a modern Roman nymph Pomona not forgetting to thank the trees for their bounty.

Apples are so much part of our autumn landscape of traditions in the Isles of Britain it’s hard to image a time without them; from apple dooking at Halloween to apple candles in our Yule Spirals not to mention apple cake, apple crumbles and pies 😋 but we have the Romans to thank for bringing us large sweet eating apples which grew well in our climate and hybridised with our smaller and intensely tart wild native Crab Apple.

Our own native variety however was cooked and added to many recipes from at least the Mesolithic over 4000yrs BC ago and no doubt there were traditions and tales around this most versatile plant long lost to us now. I suspect our native apple spirits and the incoming nymphs mixed to produce the rich culture we enjoy today.

Thank you apple trees, all apple trees 🙏🏻🍎❤️

A wounded hill, a place of prehistoric ancestors, historic mining and war time listening station. Scarred by human kind ...
13/10/2026

A wounded hill, a place of prehistoric ancestors, historic mining and war time listening station. Scarred by human kind activity for thousands of years, going back at least to the 2500BCE, and still be nibbled away at for road stone, quarries cutting into Iron Age ramparts. A place of wind and ravens, starkly beautiful, its heather combed by fierce winds but here and there hollows where sheep and a wandering wild woman might settle in for a snooze in the sunshine. A place of ancient voices, barely heard echoes of faded songs. In the beginning perhaps a place to inter the bones of ancestors, and cover them over with stone, perhaps tuck a pot of cremation ashes into a the dark soil under a low cairn of rocks before returning by to the benevolent valleys below. Not so far in miles to revisit from time to time, a constant reminder of your venerated loved ones , passed beyond the veil still looking over the living. Wounded the hill may be but the place holds whispers of a once ongoing relationship between living and dead, not sad but strangely liberating.

There’s nowhere in these lands that our past has not been woven into the land, ancestors footsteps, peoples so long forgotten even their relatives are vanished from our genes….but if you are quiet and attentive perhaps you can catch a whisper.

🌀

A wounded hill, a place of prehistoric ancestors, historic mining and war time listening station. Scarred by human kind ...
13/10/2026

A wounded hill, a place of prehistoric ancestors, historic mining and war time listening station. Scarred by human kind activity for thousands of years, going back at least to the 2500BCE, and still be nibbled away at for road stone, quarries cutting into Iron Age ramparts. A place of wind and ravens, starkly beautiful, its heather combed by fierce winds but here and there hollows where sheep and a wandering wild woman might settle in for a snooze in the sunshine. A place of ancient voices, barely heard echoes of faded songs. In the beginning perhaps a place to inter the bones of ancestors, and cover them over with stone, perhaps tuck a pot of cremation ashes into a the dark soil under a low cairn of rocks before returning by to the benevolent valleys below. Not so far in miles to revisit from time to time, a constant reminder of your venerated loved ones , passed beyond the veil still looking over the living. Wounded the hill may be but the place holds whispers of a once ongoing relationship between living and dead, not sad but strangely liberating.

There’s nowhere in these lands that our past has not been woven into the land, ancestors footsteps, peoples so long forgotten even their relatives are vanished from our genes….but if you are quiet and attentive perhaps you can catch a whisper.

🌀

New Moon desk altar..Calling in the autumn breezes and dreams of mountains wild for this new moon. It’s easy to forget t...
10/10/2026

New Moon desk altar..

Calling in the autumn breezes and dreams of mountains wild for this new moon. It’s easy to forget to breathe, to really consciously inhale and exhale pulling in fresh air and letting go the stale from our hunched over bodies, welcome those golden autumn mornings and the dark chilly nights. It’s pumpkin season (all those yummy soups and casseroles) and these little beauties will hold that seasonal bounty alongside some horse chestnut seeds, rescued from the roadside, to anchor intentions.
🧡🧡🎃🧡🧡

“A woman may crave to be near water, or be belly down, her face in the earth, smelling the wild smell.She might have to ...
09/10/2026

“A woman may crave to be near water, or be belly down, her face in the earth, smelling the wild smell.

She might have to drive into the wind.

She may have to plant something, pull things out of the ground or put them into the ground.

She may have to knead and bake, rapt in dough up to her elbows.

She may have to trek into the hills, leaping from rock to rock trying out her voice against the mountain.

She may need hours of starry nights where the stars are like face powder spilled on a black marble floor.

She may feel she will die if she doesn’t dance naked in a thunderstorm, sit in perfect silence, return home ink-stained, paint-stained, tear-stained, moon-stained.”

~Clarissa Pinkola Estes~


Wide words from she who knows, the Wild Woman archetype must renew the wild within or risk becoming a dried-out husk of herself.

❤️❤️🐺🌀❤️❤️

Celebrating the red…Red berries from Holly so iconic of winter and yet when winter lies deep upon the land these red ber...
07/10/2026

Celebrating the red…
Red berries from Holly so iconic of winter and yet when winter lies deep upon the land these red berries will be sorely needed by birds looking to sustain themselves through the colder months.

When our hedgerows and forests are beginning blazing in autumn colour it’s tempting to forage far and wide but I’ve come to severely restrict doing this now. As climate changes make it harder for our wildlife I ask myself how can I celebrate the seasons and the wild land but with as little impact as possible. More and more my celebrations and rituals to honour the seasons rhythms are by taking photographs, singing songs, only taking a very small quantity if ever from what I’ve grown myself and even then not at all if I don’t have to. I’ve adjusted garden pruning to better serve nature, and leave plants growing in the wild entirely alone. The reciprocity and the honourable harvest increasingly means putting hedgewitchy wants last…yes I’d love a branch of Holly with berries for a seasonal table but what a waste of the berries for my small vanity. So as another new moon approaches, I return the beech mast and conkers from my pockets back to the forest and admire the red, the deep shine of blood berries against the glossy shine of leaves but I leave the branch uncut. An offering to the birds when the cold winds blow.

“My prayer for you is that you will fearlessly look upon your life as holy and whole. That you find meaning and wonder b...
02/10/2026

“My prayer for you is that you will fearlessly look upon your life as holy and whole. That you find meaning and wonder bubbling from the ground of your most ordinary moments.”

Words from mirabai starr’s book ordinary mysticism. Mysticism, reverence, sacredness, awe are all words for that profound sense of connectedness that we may experience at times in our lives. A sense of being part of something much bigger than ourselves. It’s a perspective that might be found through organised religion and belief systems but these are not automatically required, taking time to be fully present, to get curious about other than human life, paying close attention to something, learning how to change our perspective by zooming right into detail and then zooming back out to the biggest picture possible are tremendously beneficial for our mental health but perhaps most importantly can bring a deep sense of inter-connectedness between all things, meaning and wonder in the everyday and absolutely no drugs required.

🙏🏻❤️⭕️❤️🌀❤️

Weaving ourselves back home…This lunar cycle the changing season into Autumn in the lands where I dwell is bringing ever...
30/09/2026

Weaving ourselves back home…
This lunar cycle the changing season into Autumn in the lands where I dwell is bringing ever longer nights, the dreaming dark beckons and the urge to seek out my metaphorical cave is growing…as long as I can have some light for crafting! Anything we make with our hands is fantastic for our cognitive health, problem solving in real time, mindfulness in the moment and deep flow, worries forgotten, minds and bodies calmed as we create with our hands.

I have a vague idea for a totemic piece, something that speaks deeply to my heart which is needing some reconnection with deep time and personal truths, some rebalancing and quite frankly some joy. As usual what I thought I wanted turned out to be quite different but this is all part of the process of hand making. It starts long before the actual making, with foraging for twine, fibres, sticks, beads, stones, bones all manner of things. So I’m courting the creatrix for some sacred crafting, by laying out my offerings, around a central totem.

❤️🌀❤️✨

Circle Hearth for a Harvest Moon…Apples, conkers and Scots pine cones circle around a candle the colour of autumns eveni...
26/09/2026

Circle Hearth for a Harvest Moon…
Apples, conkers and Scots pine cones circle around a candle the colour of autumns evening sunshine. The practice of making a hearth or circle centre is wonderfully meditative…I never know how it will turn out, I gather items from my garden and home that speak to me of the season, bringing the outside inside, listening to my inner space and then just starting….no particular plan just laying down leaves, from birch and Japanese maple, laying out shiny conkers and rich velvety deep red flowers, letting the materials go where seem to want to. An offering to the harvest moon, the to end of summer and the turning towards the dreaming dark to come.

🙏🏻❤️⭕️❤️🍂🌕

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The Japanese Garden At Cowden
Dollar
FK14 7PL

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