Interlude ~ Before the Stones

The trouble with writing about somewhere like Stonehenge… somewhere that almost everyone recognises and feels they know something … is that most of us know nothing at all apart from the familiar form of the circle and trilithons.

We just accept that this is an ancient monument, built by people who were maybe not quite as savage as we generally think, for some strange ritual purpose… probably to do with the stars or planets. Or it was built by the Druids? And all the stones came from Wales… And that really is about all most of us know…and most of that is wrong or at least, woefully incomplete.

Stonehenge… the first part of the name is thought to come from the old word for ‘hanging stones’… or ‘stones suspended in air’. The ‘henge’ refers to an outer and circular earthen embankment with an internal ditch, such as the one around the great circle of Avebury, where we had been earlier that afternoon. At Stonehenge, however, the ditch is outside the embankment; just one of many of the anomalies of this site that make it quite unique. Time, feet and erosion have taken their toll on the henge, but the ditch and banks, overlooked by most, can still be seen on the outer edge of the monument field.

Then there are the misconceptions about its timeline… for the circle was built in phases on a site already held and made sacred by the many burials it contained. And then there is the sheer scale of the site… because you simply cannot ignore the number of other archaeological features that cluster around the circle, rippling out across the wider landscape to include many miles and the mindboggling possibility that the vast sites around both Stonehenge and Avebury were designed to work together. And, even when you stand within the circle, it looks something of a jumble to begin with until you begin teasing apart the layers of history. So where do you begin?

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

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Brief #midnighthaiku

Brief blaze of glory

Autumn’s game of give and take

Evens the balance

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Healing Gifts ~ Alethea Kehas

Reblogged from The Light Behind the Story:

Photo Credit: Pixabay

For Sue

The opened body becomes the vessel

of healer and also receiver

And so I find her in the Seer’s circle

cloaked in owl’s feathers, anointing

those who come to give

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Circles Beyond Time ~ Worlds Without Borders

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We left Arbor Low and headed back to the village of Monyash and the pub for lunch. Once again, we seemed to have seen and done far more than should be possible in such a short time, slipping across the borders of time and space as if it were perfectly natural. The trouble was that now, as we neared the end of our weekend, there was not a huge amount of time left before everyone would depart, making their separate ways to homes to in far-flung parts of the country. It always amazes me, and touches me deeply, the distances that are travelled by people coming to share these weekends with us. They are not huge, glitzy events… and for at least three of them every year, all we appear to do is go out for a walk… in whatever weather we happen to have. Yet, people travel hundreds… often thousands… of miles to share what we do, regularly coming from as far away as America to take part.

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The weekends are open to all… not just members of the Silent Eye and their focus is about sharing an experience. They are an opportunity to get together with people who walk widely different paths, both in everyday life and on their own spiritual journeys. One thing has always stood out for me at gatherings such as these and that is a complete lack of tolerance for the beliefs of others. There is no need for ‘tolerance’, which still, when you think about it, implies a judgement. Instead, there is just acceptance, pure and simple, of the validity of every other path. The minister laughs with the witch, the shaman with the Qabalist and the druid with the Taoist. There are no borders, no boundaries, no social divides and no prejudice… just a genuine desire to share and learn from each other.

Continue reading at France & Vincent

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Carrot and Coals: Calling

*

…I have to wonder about Wen.

Even before the ‘Wen’ thing she was a little too eager to run off to all the farthest flung reaches of the known universe at the drop of a hat.

The ‘hat’ in this case being any and all tangential references of any sort whatsoever to our quest; the merest hint of anything French for example and she was ‘champing at the bit’ to get over there.

Now, I am as keen to explore that particular land mass as the next fellow but if we are to do this thing properly… well, we really have to be called.

And this ‘calling’ is a tricky business.

The Scotland thing is a case in point.

It certainly looked like that was a good idea.

We had stuff to look at en route and stuff to look at when we got there and friends who could put us up and… and then the coffee pot exploded and we ended up heading off in quite the opposite direction.

You see, if it looks like you are not going to follow the calling… stuff happens.

Continue reading at France & Vincent

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The Small Dog’s Vicious Circle…

Well, she’s still being weird

And she’s up half the night,

So we sit in the garden

Because stars are bright

And why shouldn’t we watch

As they twinkle and shine?

I don’t care what we’re doing

‘Cause this time is mine.

*

With her hands in my fur,

Or caressing my ears,

It’s this time of night

When we get to change gears,

I don’t need to guard her

Or be high altered…

Just snuggle up close

While the tension’s diverted.

By day we have unicorns

Over the fence,

All disguised as horses…

The undergrowth’s dense

To protect them from hunters,

So I’m on the case,

Of every intruder

Protecting the place.

*

Continue reading at The Small Dog’s Blog

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Channel #midnighthaiku

Beyond time and reason

Channelling self-expression

Exuberant life

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On the fiddle ~ Tallis Steelyard

Reblogged from Jim Webster, aka Tallis Steelyard:

Jiggy was only ever known as Jiggy. Obviously I cannot vouch for the fact that he was never, in his youth, known as ‘Young Jiggy’ because that is well before my time. But in his old age he was never ‘Old Jiggy’, there was no other Jiggy.

Now Jiggy played the fiddle. Admittedly the only difference between his fiddle and a violin was that the bridge was flatter than you’d expect. The big difference is the nature of the music.

Now Jiggy never claimed to write music. As a youth, he’d arrived in Port Naain from Partann with his fiddle and a head full of folk tunes. Over the years he’d collected more folk tunes and between ourselves, I think that when he wrote them down, he wrote what they ought to be, not what a lot of very amateur musicians had in point of fact being playing. I suspect he rescued a lot of fine tunes from degenerating into something banal.

 

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Circles Beyond Time ~ The Serpent Stones

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We followed the earthen avenue from Gib Hill to the banks of Arbor Low. You do not really get a clear impression of where you are here; the roads climb steadily as they cross the undulating landscape and, by the time you reach the henge, you are already over twelve hundred feet above sea level. The countryside around you seems relatively flat, with only the distant peaks of higher hills to shape the horizon. Even today there are few buildings in the area and, with little light pollution, nights are dark and the stars bright. And that makes you wonder about what our ancestors might have been doing here, especially given what we have ‘seen’ in meditation within the circle on previous visits.

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Mellow moods for Autumn (4) : by the river ~ Steve Tanham

Autumn is a beautiful time in the Lune Valley…

The River Lune rises in the gentle hills of the Eden Valley, in Cumbria, the last western county before you cross the border into Scotland. It flows for 53 miles in long curves, defining a series of beautiful valleys.

It’s most scenic section is where it passes a few hundred metres from the centre of Kirkby Lonsdale, a 13th century market town, famed for its wealth of history and surviving stone dwellings – and also the still-standing Devil’s Bridge, which used to be the main highway into West Yorkshire and offers one of the most photographed views in Cumbria.

Continue reading at Sun in Gemini

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