By Backstone Beck

harvest being 2014 060There could be no better place to wake than the moors; as the curtains opened on my picturesque ‘birthday card’ and the Cow and Calf brought in the morning. We were planning a long walk after breakfast so our rooms had to be cleared and we were to check out early. First though, a final meal shared in the window table of the old hotel, this time with cards and unexpected gifts. One card, ‘coincidentally’ showing a picture of Aysgarth Falls where Stuart and I had taken the first, tentative steps towards a journey we had not then realised was beginning and which had, one year ago to the day, resulted in the publication of our first book together, The Initiate.harvest being 2014 009
A little while later, cars packed and ready to leave upon our return, we set out across the heather towards Backstone Beck where, for a final time, we drank the golden water of the stream. For me this is a ritual; to take that water into my body is to carry the essence of the moors within. It is also a very special place on a personal level as I have played in this particular stream, both as woman and child. So have my children. So did my parents and their parents. It is more than sentimentality, however; in a very real way the land here gave birth to us and there is a true sense of continuity, of being rooted in the earth from which we take our being, and to that indefinable ‘something’ beyond all that we are. In this place one can touch the divine in every rock, every blade of grass and every bell of heather.harvest being 2014 015
We walked beside the beck to where an ancient carved stone lies enigmatically in the path. We stopped to discuss the possible meanings, uses and reasons for such carvings. There are well over 250 similar megalithic stones upon this small stretch of moor and probably as many theories, but the only thing we can know for certain is that there was meaning; no-one would go to this amount of effort with primitive tools unless the symbols were significant.

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We dowsed the stone with a crystal pendulum, each taking a turn and seeing how the pendulum reacted, noting the differing movements over the various parts of the stone. It is an interesting exercise that anyone can try, regardless of whether you see it as a bit of leftover folk-magic and dowse for the sex of a child with the wedding ring on a thread, or take it to ever more complex and technical heights. For myself I prefer dowsing rods, but these I had left at home.harvest being 2014 018
From here we walked through the bracken lined path, always climbing gently, towards Backstone circle. It is an odd place, still in use by local pagan groups to judge by the traces of wax and flower tucked beside the stones. Beneath it a stream runs to a nearby well and behind it a quarried cairn stands open to the skies. The stones themselves may form the remains of a substantial double circle, but the stones have been shifted and disrupted by the presence of later building and the walls now intrude on the circle. Opinions vary… is it a circle at all, or a later ‘fake’ or an ancient place overlaid with more modern activity? Judging by the other features in the landscape I would go for the latter, though the reeds grow within the circle and that, in itself, is unusual…but again, we may never know.harvest being 2014 016
‘Further up and further in’ we went, until we reached a resting place with a post box for poems. We had been here before and rested a while; sharing pieces of writing that are significant to each of us, pieces that picked up on the theme of the weekend. At least two of us were in tears after one reading. Like many other things, this may sound odd, but in that place, at that time, surrounded by the bracken and the wind, it was perfect.

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But we still had a way to go before we would reach our destination, so once again we followed the stream to where a carved face marks the crossing into what seems a different landscape.X ilkley weekend 088

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 scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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6 Responses to By Backstone Beck

  1. Eliza Waters says:

    I loved your ritual of drinking the beck’s water ‘to carry the essence of the moors within’ and to feel that grounded connection to your ancestors. How lovely!

    Like

  2. smackedpentax says:

    My grandson, who is 5 and loves the moors as much as I do, calls that stone ‘the crocodile stone’ because he says it looks like (yes, you guessed it) – a crocodile 🙂

    Like

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