My Cottage in the Clouds

Kari Schad
Jun 29, 2025
4 min read

Updated: Dec 29, 2025

Welcome to my Cottage in the Clouds — a little corner of the world where

stories, spirit, and everyday magic meet.

If you’re here, I want you to know: this space isn’t just a website. It’s something that’s been gently rising from the mist for a very long time. A gathering place. A frequency field. A homecoming.

The Rustic Witch was never just a name. It’s who I am when I’m most myself. It’s the thread that runs through everything I create — whether it’s a journal kit, a blog post, or a whispered blessing sewn into the pages of a book. This site exists because I feel called to gather those threads in one place. A way to share the joy that moves through me when I’m creating. A way to open the door and say, “Here, come in. I made this with love.”

The truth is, this isn’t my first website. I built my original online space out of necessity — to have a place for my handmade goods, to establish a presence, to try and keep up with the “rules” of doing business online. And for a while, that was enough. But over time, I realized that the energy of that space didn’t reflect who I truly was. It felt structured, yes, but not alive. It didn’t hold the joy. It didn’t sing with magic.

So I have moved. I’ve transferred my domain, and I started fresh. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. This time, I have built something that feels like home. Not just for my work, but for my whole self.

This new site is where I share the joy I live for: creating art, designing journal kits, crafting handmade treasures, writing books, and whispering stories into the ethers. This is where it all weaves together. And while yes, it holds links to my shoppe, my designs, and my writing — it’s also a place of energy. A place made with intention. A place where you’re invited to feel something.

But today, as I finally published this cottage online, something else stirred.

Earlier today, I was watching a Gaia series called Divine Science. One episode was about the music and language of plants. Yes, plants. Not metaphorically — literally. Scientists and energy workers are now recording and translating the vibrational patterns plants emit. With little sensors placed on their leaves and into the soil, the plants generate actual sound patterns. And as I watched, they began to sing.

The sound moved me to tears. It stirred something deep and joyful in me, because I’ve always talked to my plants. I tell Lily, my peace lily, how beautiful she is. I ask her how she’s doing. I thank her for just being here. And when she began to droop, I worried. I researched. I listened. And I fixed what was wrong — not just with knowledge, but with love.

So when the man on the episode said, “It’s not that the plants aren’t communicating, it’s that we aren’t listening” — something in me cracked open in the most beautiful way. Not a wound. A remembrance.

And maybe that’s what this site is, too. A place to remember.

I didn’t create The Rustic Witch as a brand. I created it because it felt like the only honest thing to do. Thirty years ago, during a meditation in my backyard, I quietly asked the universe if I was really a witch, or just caught in some kind of phase. What happened next changed me forever.

A presence touched my shoulder, soft as a breeze, and whispered: “You are Wicca. Be.”

From that moment, I stopped trying to fit into other people’s labels. I studied. I created. I came home to myself. I became my own kind of witch — kitchen-based, spirit-led, and joy-rooted. I blended the sacred with the everyday. I listened to the world around me, and to the world within me.

And now I’m sharing that. Not to teach, not to prove, but simply to offer what has always been true for me: that magic is real, creativity is healing, and joy is meant to be shared.

So here it is. The cottage is open. You’ll find three little trails leading outward from here: one to my digital designs, one to my handcrafted shoppe, and one to my publishing branch. Each is a part of my joy. Each is a way I share what lives inside me.