Giants Dance: Rhyme and Reason,

 Stuart France and Sue Vincent

It began with a walk over the bracken covered hillsides of Derbyshire to a lonely stone circle, almost forgotten. It was just a walk…until the hawk flew from the tree and once again the visions began. Plunged into a realm beyond reality, further than history, deeper than time, Don and Wen begin to unravel the hidden messages hidden in plain sight, concealed by habit and acceptance, and extraordinary magic framed within the small things of ordinary life. Follow a journey across the Heart of Albion and become an Initiate of the mysterious verity of verse.

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“…The boy speaks softly to the tree, caressing the ancient yew with the hands of a lover, seeking acquiescence and blessing. His frame is slight yet there is an air of quiet strength, melody in the whispered words. A knife glints in the sunlight. He feels an answer and smiles. Grateful.

From the bushes a youth emerges, strong, well-muscled, gleaming in the morning, armed with spear and bow. He points, sharing laughter with his pack, young wolves hunting, their prey found and ridiculed.

Woman’s work, this magic; a boy not fit to be a man. He cannot hunt, cannot cast a spear.

Jeering, fear-fuelled laughter prowls the glade, stalking their prey.

The boy turns. Holds their eyes. They fall silent one by one.

The young wolf stands alone, raising the spear against the fosterling, defensive, threatened by his silence.

A cry, a hand raised against a blow that none can see… the spear is cast wide and they run.

The boy turns back to the tree, chanting softly, seeking forgiveness. The knife flashes, the branch severed, the staff cut.

He takes the spear, binding its head to the head of the staff, lodging it deep in the wood where the branches forked.

A spear does not have to be cast to find its mark…”