Crucible of the Sun

morn 005Dawn has broken in delicate pinks and gold over a frozen world. About time too! I’ve been waiting long enough…

I opened my eyes on darkness, the sky looking suspiciously luminous I crawled, somewhat reluctantly, out of bed.  Dressing gown… bathroom… shower…

Downstairs Ani raised eyelid and eyebrow but seemed also reluctant to move. Very unusual.. she is usually waiting for her morning cuddle… but she was not moving from the sofa and sort of looked at me with an expression that said, no chance….

Cuddle her anyway, let her out into the dark garden…kettle, coffee… computer… sit down to work…

Notice on-screen clock…

Dive for phone… to check…

Half past one????

I draw a veil over the ensuing language of the next few minutes…

Finish the coffee, deal with a few emails related to the upcoming series of talks the School is giving in Glastonbury this year… and go back to bed. The only sensible option. With a book. To read… not edit this time!

When I finally awoke again it was still dark… I’d made it as far as 6am. My mind was buzzing from dreams that were purely concerned with Crucible of the Sun, Stuart’s new book that will be out later this month. I followed the story in dream, meeting the Old Ones in a landscape both familiar and unreal, followed a white Horse across a green vale… a crane flying overhead showering the world with petals from its wings….finding an ancient altar in a wooded grove. It was strewn with flowers and the air sparkled with the motes of light that mark the places where the veil is thin. From the green shadows emerged a figure, robed and hooded. There was music… harp and voice, quiet, otherworldly… beautiful….The figure approached…I saluted him, Priestess to Priest, different Paths to the same Source… then asked him to write the Foreword for the book…

A certain person may have a point when he tells me to slow down…

morn 002So I wrapped a blanket round my shoulders and sat on the doorstep with Ani, watching Aurora spread her rose-gold cloak across the sky, watching impossible pinks, blues, purples and golds paint the world. I saw the damp turn from a moonlit sheen to a pristine veil of frost, watched the rays of a winter sun kiss the earth and the hawk of the morning soar through the song of a thousand birds, it seemed.

Maybe that certain person is right when he calls me a ridiculous hobbit…

Ani laid her head on my knee as tears coursed down my cheeks cold in the winter air. There is no difference between this landscape and my dream… there was as much magic and mystery, as much beauty on my back doorstep as there was in that ephemeral land . The Old Ones still walk in the silence of morning, their music still greets the dawn and the trees sing in whispers for those who listen.

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email:
This entry was posted in Crucible of the Sun, Dogs, England, Heart of Albion, Landscape, Life, Love and Laughter, Mythology, Photography, Spirituality, Stuart France and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Crucible of the Sun

  1. ksbeth says:

    this is an amazing post, and the last paragraph and photo are absolutely striking –


  2. Beautiful post Sue, your photos and your words never fail to bring magic to blog land 🙂


  3. Robert says:

    Evidence that there is more to life than just the physical, thank so much Sue 🙂


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