It is October first, my fellow readers, and this is the season I have loved most for as long as I can remember. There is something about the beauty of the changing fall foliage, those crisp days when the sun still feels warm against your cheeks, and the smell of the meadows as they turn fallow for the season. I love decorating for this month, but I love it even more when those decorations feel meaningful. This year, I spent the time foraging for fallen sticks from the woods, harvesting meadow grasses, flowers, and herbs, and using what I gathered to make my own outdoor decorative brooms.

These brooms aren’t just decorative for me, though. They stand in a liminal space between the inner safety of my home and the outer world beyond it, almost like little sentinels standing at the threshold. The practice of making them was intentional, from the pieces I chose to harvest to the herbs I tucked within them. They are beautiful and folksy, certainly, but there is also something quietly magical woven into them. They stand outside my home carrying my intentions for the space within: boundary protection, abundance, and love.

I feel like each person develops their own connection to the land they live upon, the plants they touch and speak with, and the ways they find meaning within them. There is something incredibly personal about walking outside, recognizing what grows around you, and eventually knowing those plants not simply by name, but by season, place, memory, and relationship. The materials that call to me may not be the same ones that call to you, and I think that is part of what makes this kind of practice so special.

For me, these brooms are a folksy October decoration that also happens to carry a simple spell. They are made from the land surrounding my home, gathered with intention, and placed at its boundary with purpose. There is no elaborate ritual hidden here, and there doesn’t need to be. Sometimes magic can simply be the intention placed into something while your hands are busy creating it.

If you want to make some whimsy of your own that secretly houses a little magic, wander outside and connect with the materials that matter to you. You will need a stick of an appropriate length, meadow grasses, flowers, and herbs cut to roughly one to two feet in length, a few zip ties, and some cord or twine if desired. Of course, only harvest plants you can confidently identify and gather responsibly, and be mindful of anything that may irritate the skin or be unsafe to handle.

To make the broom, take your stick and begin gathering bundles of meadow grass, herbs, and flowers around the lower foot or so of it. Grip everything tightly around the stick, arranging and adding more material until the broom feels as full as you would like it to be. Once everything is where you want it, take a zip tie and cinch the bundle securely to the stick. Trim away the excess from the zip tie, and then wrap the secured portion in cord or twine if you would like to hide it and give the broom a more finished, rustic appearance.

These brooms are a wonderful way to use what is already around you, but they also give you an opportunity to intentionally harvest the plants that you feel called toward and that serve the purpose you have in mind. For my own personal brooms, I used goldenrod (Solidago canadensis), mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris), and Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota) as my spiritual additions. Goldenrod carries associations of abundance and prosperity for me, mugwort brings protection and the magic of liminal spaces, while Queen Anne’s lace carries a feeling of sanctuary and protection.

And now they stand outside my home: a little wild, a little imperfect, and made almost entirely from what was growing around me. To anyone passing by, they are simply rustic October brooms decorating the house for autumn. But I know what I gathered, what I tucked inside them, and what I asked them to stand for.

Sometimes, I think that is my favorite kind of house magic – the kind that simply looks like home.