Welsh Witchcraft

I didn’t expect to feel homesick for a culture I’ve barely visited, but by the time Bennett spoke the soft, rolling vowels of *Mabon* over the Welsh hills, I missed the mountains. This isn’t a dry academic text—it’s a living conversation. Bennett’s pacing is deliberately unhurried, letting the weight of each word settle like mist on a bog. She nails the cadence of Welsh curses and charms, her delivery swinging between lyrical warmth and sudden crispness when Starling drops into a sharp, practical tip. The production is clean, with no distracting foley, letting the voice carry the atmosphere. My only quibble? The chapter on protective herbs could’ve used more audible emphasis on the Latin names—fumbling with pronunciation mid-stream yanked me out of the spell. And while Starling’s insistence on *place-based* magic is refreshing, there were moments when the book assumes a familiarity with Welsh topography that might leave non-locals mapping routes in their heads. But these are minor stumbles in an otherwise immersive walk through a magical landscape. Bennett’s voice is the real triumph—it’s the kind of narration that makes you want to brew tea, light a candle, and start carving sigils into whatever wood you’ve got to hand.