The gates were between worlds were opened

How could Saimhain have been anymore perfect?
As night fell, so did the fog, blanketing all in a milky glare. I walked under the opalescent moonlight, up to the big oak tree, followed by Squigz who mewed and rubbed against my legs, as a perfect witch's cat should.  No one else, no dog, no husband, just the night charged to the brim with souls and spirits and I felt I belonged and always had.