Portals…

*

“In the programme…”

said the man wearing a green-kilt,

*

*

“…the portal-stones lead to another time.”

*

*

“He’s referring to a television

programme,” said Wen, quietly.

*

*

“And what of the non televisual world?”

*

*

“There isn’t one.”

 

***

 

*

Lands of Exile:

KITH ‘N’ KIN

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

The Beeley Stone, ‘liberated’ from the churchyard at Bakewell, stands proudly in the centre of its village green once more. While the locals enjoy the fruits of its restoration, Ben, who had led the daring raid against authority, still languishes in jail.

Don and Wen, arrested and released without explanation in Ireland, now plot an erratic course through the wild places of Wales, while Jaw-Dark and Kraas, seeking the legendary stone of Fergus Mac Roy, have been separated in the most uncanny of circumstances…

As the darkness closes around them, the Black Shade haunts the moors above Beeley and, in the shadowy rooms of the old tower, an ancient and even stranger story begins to unfold…

 

Where do they go to?…

rs-224

*

…And the Wood-Stone started to glow,

White it was…

*

rs-225

*

And I felt an impetus to take flight,

but only as far as the end of the passage…

*

rs-226

*

Which is just as well, otherwise,

I would have missed the golden glow

now emanating from the chamber…

*

rs-227

*

And all the ‘statuary firing up blue’,

as whatever it was lighting the chamber,

slowly made its way along the passage…

*

rs-228

*

Passed through me…

*

rs-233

*

Or around me…

*

rs-239

*

And then out…

*

rs-240

*

A short time later, still in the chamber,

we found ourselves asking the question to which that had been the answer.

And if you are curious to know, how golden was the chamber?

*

rs-231

*

It was Liquid-Sun.

 

***

 

*

Lands of Exile

But ‘n’ Ben ~ Beck ‘n’ Call  ~ Kith ‘n’ Kin

While Ben, fast becoming a folk hero, languishes in Bakewell Gaol, Don and Wen are on holiday… or ‘on the run’ if Bark Jaw-Dark and PC 963 Kraas, hot in pursuit, are to be believed.

From England to Scotland and Ireland, the officers of the Law follow the trail of the erratic couple.

But who is the shadowy figure, hovering beyond sight?

What is his interest in a small standing stone and just how many high-level strings can he pull…

and why?

***

Winged blade.
Everywhere. Nowhere.
Now here.

“Now slowly, gently, return to the Circle, carrying the vision of Light within. Return to your body… meld with it once more… Allow yourself to feel your chest, rising and falling as you breathe… your feet on the green earth.”
Warm, in Jaw-Dark’s hand, the crystal seed pulsed with life. “In the monstrous tyranny of process,” he said, “‘what is’ is next to ‘what was’, and ‘what is no longer’, while ‘what never was’ but ‘what could have been’ and, perhaps even, ‘what should have been’ is that much stronger…
“What seems complete,” said Kraas in the way of some sort of response, “may only be divisive, and ‘the half of it’ might in fact be whole.”
“Good,” said Weston. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”
“Ben’s out,” said Sams.
“Yes, I got that impression, too,” said Weston.
“I have one for Mark,” said Prufrock.
Jaw-Dark placed the crystal seed, still pulsing with life, flat to his heart centre.
“Long before the Pueblo Indians of Central Mexico learned to cultivate maize, they grew green kidney beans as a staple,” said Prufrock. ““Three beans magical,” said the witch doctor in the marketplace, circumspectly discarding those with a flawed casing. By sleight of hand he made many beans fall from those three.”
“It is going to rain heavily,” said Jaw-Dark, matter-of-factly.
“Looking at that black mass of cloud gathering over the horizon, I’d say you were right,” said Kraas.
“If it’s the storm from last night we wouldn’t want to be caught in an exposed location,” said Prufrock.
“There was a storm last night?” said Kraas.

“Not where we were,” said Prufrock…

***

***

Lands of Exile:

KITH ‘N’ KIN

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

The Beeley Stone, ‘liberated’ from the churchyard at Bakewell, stands proudly in the centre of its village green once more. While the locals enjoy the fruits of its restoration, Ben, who had led the daring raid against authority, still languishes in jail.

Don and Wen, arrested and released without explanation in Ireland, now plot an erratic course through the wild places of Wales, while Jaw-Dark and Kraas, seeking the legendary stone of Fergus Mac Roy, have been separated in the most uncanny of circumstances…

As the darkness closes around them, the Black Shade haunts the moors above Beeley and, in the shadowy rooms of the old tower, an ancient and even stranger story begins to unfold…

Available via Amazon UK, Amazon.com and worldwide.

Into the Hill…

rs-208*

Further vindication of our unscheduled return

was granted upon re-entering the chamber.

The free standing stone and the facing stone,

which were separated by space and shadow,

were both now holding the light.

The light that some say would not have been original to the monument.

*

rs-218

*

From behind, the standing stone still looks like wood…

*

rs-220

*

…Dark Wood.

*

rs-222

*

Still a little perplexed by the experience the previous day at the ‘Chant-Eater’

we ran through the nine-fold chant and this time got some good effects.

The middle three seemed to resonate most favourably which,

being the heart triad, would make a lot of sense here.

After which we re-made our dedication…

*

rs-243

*

Our timing was beginning to appear propitious…

*

rs-223

*

But then we noticed that the ground was turning red…

 

***

 

*

Lands of Exile

But ‘n’ Ben ~ Beck ‘n’ Call  ~ Kith ‘n’ Kin

While Ben, fast becoming a folk hero, languishes in Bakewell Gaol, Don and Wen are on holiday… or ‘on the run’ if Bark Jaw-Dark and PC 963 Kraas, hot in pursuit, are to be believed.

From England to Scotland and Ireland, the officers of the Law follow the trail of the erratic couple.

But who is the shadowy figure, hovering beyond sight?

What is his interest in a small standing stone and just how many high-level strings can he pull…

and why?

***

Winged blade.
Everywhere. Nowhere.
Now here.

“Now slowly, gently, return to the Circle, carrying the vision of Light within. Return to your body… meld with it once more… Allow yourself to feel your chest, rising and falling as you breathe… your feet on the green earth.”
Warm, in Jaw-Dark’s hand, the crystal seed pulsed with life. “In the monstrous tyranny of process,” he said, “‘what is’ is next to ‘what was’, and ‘what is no longer’, while ‘what never was’ but ‘what could have been’ and, perhaps even, ‘what should have been’ is that much stronger…
“What seems complete,” said Kraas in the way of some sort of response, “may only be divisive, and ‘the half of it’ might in fact be whole.”
“Good,” said Weston. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”
“Ben’s out,” said Sams.
“Yes, I got that impression, too,” said Weston.
“I have one for Mark,” said Prufrock.
Jaw-Dark placed the crystal seed, still pulsing with life, flat to his heart centre.
“Long before the Pueblo Indians of Central Mexico learned to cultivate maize, they grew green kidney beans as a staple,” said Prufrock. ““Three beans magical,” said the witch doctor in the marketplace, circumspectly discarding those with a flawed casing. By sleight of hand he made many beans fall from those three.”
“It is going to rain heavily,” said Jaw-Dark, matter-of-factly.
“Looking at that black mass of cloud gathering over the horizon, I’d say you were right,” said Kraas.
“If it’s the storm from last night we wouldn’t want to be caught in an exposed location,” said Prufrock.
“There was a storm last night?” said Kraas.

“Not where we were,” said Prufrock…

***

***

Lands of Exile:

KITH ‘N’ KIN

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

The Beeley Stone, ‘liberated’ from the churchyard at Bakewell, stands proudly in the centre of its village green once more. While the locals enjoy the fruits of its restoration, Ben, who had led the daring raid against authority, still languishes in jail.

Don and Wen, arrested and released without explanation in Ireland, now plot an erratic course through the wild places of Wales, while Jaw-Dark and Kraas, seeking the legendary stone of Fergus Mac Roy, have been separated in the most uncanny of circumstances…

As the darkness closes around them, the Black Shade haunts the moors above Beeley and, in the shadowy rooms of the old tower, an ancient and even stranger story begins to unfold…

Available via Amazon UK, Amazon.com and worldwide.

Inner Sanctum…

 

rs-204

*

The thing is…

It is impossible to ‘do’ such sites in one visit.

In fact, it is not possible to ‘do’ such sites at all.

If anything, they ‘do’ you, if you allow them.

As we were about to learn…

*The stone I was interested to get a closer look at is a,

one would hope,  carefully positioned, replica.

The original, carved stone, is now in a local museum for safe-keeping.

The orientation of the ‘tomb’ is, according to the authorities,

towards the midsummer sunrise, so time-wise, at least, we were half a year away.

But I think it is clear that something is going on here with sun and stone,

especially as it becomes obvious that a second outlier

in an adjacent field also lines up with the stone and ‘passage-way’.

All things which would have been missed

had we not returned when we did,

but the best was yet to come…

*

rs-181*

We had known for some time, courtesy of Rupert Soskin,

that the resident stone of the inner chamber at Bryn Celli Ddu

is part of a petrified tree trunk.

*

rs-173*

And once we had our eye in it became apparent

that other ‘chunks’ of petrified wood

had been used in the construction of this ‘chambered tomb’.

*rs-176

*

At least two, and almost certainly more, of the ‘entrance’

or indeed ‘exit’ stones and the lintel of the passage itself

readily conformed to the strange specification.

*

rs-169

*

For us, this was very exciting, for while we may have been able

to extrapolate a workable symbolism behind the use of such material

for the stone of the inner chamber,

this symbolism was, perhaps, not so readily applicable

to the surrounds of the passage-way…

*

rs-170

*

And was also, possibly,

an indication of a more utilitarian function

for these stones.

*

rs-180

*

The mind

began

to boggle…

***

 

*

Lands of Exile

But ‘n’ Ben ~ Beck ‘n’ Call  ~ Kith ‘n’ Kin

While Ben, fast becoming a folk hero, languishes in Bakewell Gaol, Don and Wen are on holiday… or ‘on the run’ if Bark Jaw-Dark and PC 963 Kraas, hot in pursuit, are to be believed.

From England to Scotland and Ireland, the officers of the Law follow the trail of the erratic couple.

But who is the shadowy figure, hovering beyond sight?

What is his interest in a small standing stone and just how many high-level strings can he pull…

and why?

***

Winged blade.
Everywhere. Nowhere.
Now here.

“Now slowly, gently, return to the Circle, carrying the vision of Light within. Return to your body… meld with it once more… Allow yourself to feel your chest, rising and falling as you breathe… your feet on the green earth.”
Warm, in Jaw-Dark’s hand, the crystal seed pulsed with life. “In the monstrous tyranny of process,” he said, “‘what is’ is next to ‘what was’, and ‘what is no longer’, while ‘what never was’ but ‘what could have been’ and, perhaps even, ‘what should have been’ is that much stronger…
“What seems complete,” said Kraas in the way of some sort of response, “may only be divisive, and ‘the half of it’ might in fact be whole.”
“Good,” said Weston. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”
“Ben’s out,” said Sams.
“Yes, I got that impression, too,” said Weston.
“I have one for Mark,” said Prufrock.
Jaw-Dark placed the crystal seed, still pulsing with life, flat to his heart centre.
“Long before the Pueblo Indians of Central Mexico learned to cultivate maize, they grew green kidney beans as a staple,” said Prufrock. ““Three beans magical,” said the witch doctor in the marketplace, circumspectly discarding those with a flawed casing. By sleight of hand he made many beans fall from those three.”
“It is going to rain heavily,” said Jaw-Dark, matter-of-factly.
“Looking at that black mass of cloud gathering over the horizon, I’d say you were right,” said Kraas.
“If it’s the storm from last night we wouldn’t want to be caught in an exposed location,” said Prufrock.
“There was a storm last night?” said Kraas.

“Not where we were,” said Prufrock…

***

***

Lands of Exile:

KITH ‘N’ KIN

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

The Beeley Stone, ‘liberated’ from the churchyard at Bakewell, stands proudly in the centre of its village green once more. While the locals enjoy the fruits of its restoration, Ben, who had led the daring raid against authority, still languishes in jail.

Don and Wen, arrested and released without explanation in Ireland, now plot an erratic course through the wild places of Wales, while Jaw-Dark and Kraas, seeking the legendary stone of Fergus Mac Roy, have been separated in the most uncanny of circumstances…

As the darkness closes around them, the Black Shade haunts the moors above Beeley and, in the shadowy rooms of the old tower, an ancient and even stranger story begins to unfold…

Available via Amazon UK, Amazon.com and worldwide.

The road home…

rs-182*

Wen and I are back on the road which leads past Bryn Celli Ddu…

We had to double-back to the hotel

because someone called down ‘Cloud City’ before we left.

“Don’t you mean, someone forget their wash-bag?”

“Anyway, it was good to finally get to the Hill in a Dark Grove.”

“Pretty literal with their names aren’t they?”

“There is one thing that puzzles me, though…”

“…There were no trees.”

“Nor is a mound a hill, exactly.”

And I didn’t get any shots of the stone at the back of the mound.”

“We’ll miss the museum completely if we go back.”

“We won’t be long and we’ll still make it to Beaumaris in time.”

*

rs-187

*

The first thing to remark, apart from the increased Avian Activity Quotient…

Was, the difference an hour makes.

Was it simply the movement of the sun?

The progress of the day…

Or had the site responded to our earlier visit?

Given our theories on the sensitivity of these sites…

It could well be either, or both.

One thing was certain.

We were seeing more.

And were about to see a lot more…

 

***

 

*

Lands of Exile

But ‘n’ Ben ~ Beck ‘n’ Call  ~ Kith ‘n’ Kin

While Ben, fast becoming a folk hero, languishes in Bakewell Gaol, Don and Wen are on holiday… or ‘on the run’ if Bark Jaw-Dark and PC 963 Kraas, hot in pursuit, are to be believed.

From England to Scotland and Ireland, the officers of the Law follow the trail of the erratic couple.

But who is the shadowy figure, hovering beyond sight?

What is his interest in a small standing stone and just how many high-level strings can he pull…

and why?

***

Winged blade.
Everywhere. Nowhere.
Now here.

“Now slowly, gently, return to the Circle, carrying the vision of Light within. Return to your body… meld with it once more… Allow yourself to feel your chest, rising and falling as you breathe… your feet on the green earth.”
Warm, in Jaw-Dark’s hand, the crystal seed pulsed with life. “In the monstrous tyranny of process,” he said, “‘what is’ is next to ‘what was’, and ‘what is no longer’, while ‘what never was’ but ‘what could have been’ and, perhaps even, ‘what should have been’ is that much stronger…
“What seems complete,” said Kraas in the way of some sort of response, “may only be divisive, and ‘the half of it’ might in fact be whole.”
“Good,” said Weston. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”
“Ben’s out,” said Sams.
“Yes, I got that impression, too,” said Weston.
“I have one for Mark,” said Prufrock.
Jaw-Dark placed the crystal seed, still pulsing with life, flat to his heart centre.
“Long before the Pueblo Indians of Central Mexico learned to cultivate maize, they grew green kidney beans as a staple,” said Prufrock. ““Three beans magical,” said the witch doctor in the marketplace, circumspectly discarding those with a flawed casing. By sleight of hand he made many beans fall from those three.”
“It is going to rain heavily,” said Jaw-Dark, matter-of-factly.
“Looking at that black mass of cloud gathering over the horizon, I’d say you were right,” said Kraas.
“If it’s the storm from last night we wouldn’t want to be caught in an exposed location,” said Prufrock.
“There was a storm last night?” said Kraas.

“Not where we were,” said Prufrock…

***

***

Lands of Exile:

KITH ‘N’ KIN

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

The Beeley Stone, ‘liberated’ from the churchyard at Bakewell, stands proudly in the centre of its village green once more. While the locals enjoy the fruits of its restoration, Ben, who had led the daring raid against authority, still languishes in jail.

Don and Wen, arrested and released without explanation in Ireland, now plot an erratic course through the wild places of Wales, while Jaw-Dark and Kraas, seeking the legendary stone of Fergus Mac Roy, have been separated in the most uncanny of circumstances…

As the darkness closes around them, the Black Shade haunts the moors above Beeley and, in the shadowy rooms of the old tower, an ancient and even stranger story begins to unfold…

Available via Amazon UK, Amazon.com and worldwide.

La Chapelle Verte…

*

All stands hidden

Out-of-sight

At the heart of the cavernous world.

*

All lies sequestered

Black but comely

In the cavernous heart of man.

*

The unseen green within grey rock

Wielder of Psyche’s Axe

Looser of her emotional block.

*

Our animal soul crowns the summit

Inanimate intimacies call

‘Drink deep – Drink deep’…

*

Don’t merely dip a doltish finger-tip

Like felt for freely-gifted gold

or spawn of devil’s bloodied-blot.

*

Not sentiment nor sediment

Can satisfy

Such cavernous yawning.

*

Drink deep of night

And wake

To day’s dawning.

*

All lies hidden

Out-of-sight

At the heart of a cavernous world.

*

Green man cover finalfront

*

The Red, the White, the Green…

Some things have to be believed

Before they can be seen…

*

Available on Amazon worldwide

in Paperback and for Kindle.

Hidden Avebury…

*

… And from Needles of Stone,

to Avenues,

or at least,

what remains of one…

*

The ‘Mary Line’ which we had been following from Cornwall

runs right through the two ‘small’ stones

that had ‘called’ to us from the roadside,

and would once have been ushered, by these same avenue stones,

all the way into the Avebury Ring…

*

*

Not so small, then…

No, not small at all.

 

Mistletoe

Bare winter fingers Unveil the treasure hidden By summer's mantle

This picture was taken in early spring last year, just as the world began to warm itself in the pale sunlight. The place was Pilton, a little village near Glastonbury with a legendary history as big as a heart. It is here, the stories tell us, that Joseph of Arimathea landed on a trading visit to the Isles of Tin, bringing with him a boy… his nephew, say some… whose name was Jesus.

None know the truth of that story, though historically it is possible. There is ample evidence for the trade and it is not the only such legend in Albion. It gives credence to the other legend of Joseph that says that after the crucifixion, he brought the story of the resurrection to these Isles, landing, once again, in the shadow of the Tor… bringing word and a Vessel to Avalon.

I hover between a natural scepticism and a desire to accept. So many of the most ancient tales were bent to serve Christianity in its early days, turning the sacred knowledge of the old gods into the hagiographies of fictitious saints or tying their miracles to the hills of the Fae and the healing wells of the goddess, robbing them of their true lineage. I am not a Christian in the orthodox sense; I belong to no church but serve what I conceive of being perhaps better termed the Cosmic Christ. Yet I am also a child of these Isles and rooted in the land, and there is a warmth and simplicity in these old tales of the Child whose feet walked these blessed shores that makes me choose to believe that there is something in them; something that speaks to the heart rather than to the logical mind. As such, perhaps subjective truth is a matter of choice or faith.

Looking down the valley in the photograph towards the Tor, you can trace the ancient waterway, now no more than a stream, that once brought ships to safe harbour at Pilton. The channel remains, deep and wide and the eye of the mind can trace the outlines of moorings and see the bustle of a small trading port. Seeing the land open itself in this way somehow permits belief.

The trees were bare of everything but the balls of mistletoe that would soon be hidden by exuberant spring. The brilliant young green would cover them, hiding from view the ancient orbs, sacred to those who walked the earth long before Christianity reached our shores. The mistletoe lives upon the branches, its seeds rooting and drawing sustenance and life from roots other than its own so that it may flower, fruit and set future seeds, colonising the trees. Not unlike the story that was brought to these shores so long ago.

The mistletoe is hidden for most of the year, covered by the leaves of its host. You only get occasional glimpses of its presence… and only if you are looking. Yet, when the world is bleak and cold and the branches raise skeletal fingers to the sun, it is there… a plant that has been sacred since time immemorial, and which has come to be a symbol of peace.

Here too I find an echo of a faith that is seldom broadcast, perhaps, but which is there in the darkest of times. It does not belong to any particular denomination or religion…it may not even have a name… it is the faith of the heart that turns towards something greater when the shadows fall. In those moments seeds are planted in the soul that may find a place to grow. It does not need logic, facts or explanations. It does not need dogma or teachings… those are for the exoteric world. The heart knows no logic and faith is not rooted in religion… it is an unruly and invasive tendril that winds through the soul. And when it is free to grow wild, then it is beautiful.

The Great Mystery: Dreaming…

*

The mystery conspires with the

animal world whose souls so resemble

the purity and innocence of a human child.

*

It recognises the miracle of life

in both seed and egg

and the wonder of a harvest which

springs from an ear of corn.

*

This solitary communion with the unseen

can be rendered, a mysterious feeling,

and it has been called, ‘the dreaming’,

although it may be better understood as divine consciousness.

– Ohiyesa

*