soldiers on duty
guarding what?
a buried treasure,
safe passage,
or secrets of
a past age?
Continue reading at Reena Saxena
soldiers on duty
guarding what?
a buried treasure,
safe passage,
or secrets of
a past age?
Continue reading at Reena Saxena
Tom held the picture in his gnarled arthritic hands.
Several times he took another look and gazed back at what he was holding.
They had told him the land had been developed, and the meadows he remembered as a child were all gone, the stones having been relocated here.
Continue reading at pensitivity101

It is always a lovely surprise to find a review of a book.
Even better when it is a positive review…
It started with a Kite moved through conversations with Llamas and continues with some realizations. These books are magical adventures – almost a modern-day spiritual Famous Five except in this case it’s The Adventures of Wen and Don out to play….in the mystical land of Albion unlocking magical secrets and reading the land….. Fascinating gems of books and well worth reading! I just bought the next!
From Giants Dance: Rhyme and Reason
Book Three of The Triad of Albion
“…Such a small thing, sitting as if asleep against the stone as the dawn broke. Yet it was no sleep but a birthing.
He had called them and they had come, up from the valley, through the avenue of stones… to the circle. Their drums quiet, their voices hushed, their feet light on the faded heather…
He had stood guard all night… I had felt him there… the last thing I had known. He stood there still, shoulders fallen… head bowed… until they came. It was he who carried me to the place of preparation…
I could no longer feel his tears as they fell upon my face… no longer reach out in comfort to him…
There was a memory of the ache of separation… a severing of the cords of life… What of me was human still yearned to offer comfort… what of me was beyond knew it was not needed… it was a birthing. He laid me in the circled place and the drums began…
They brought me treasures… one by one… a hawk’s feather… a flower… a stone. The fires were lit. The great cauldron was filled and boiling. It was for him to make the first cut…
He could not.
He cut my hair instead… taking a long lock of silver and lifting it to his lips. He left then… he could not stay…”

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.
Illustrated in Full Colour throughout

Giants Dance: Rhyme and Reason
Book Three of the Triad of Albion
Stuart France and Sue Vincent
Available in Full colour paperback and for Kindle
Amazon US, Amazon UK and worldwide
You can download a free Kindle app for PC, Mac, android and other platforms that allows you to read the books available, even if you do not own a Kindle.. and there are thousands of books to choose from, including many classics, and hard-to-find volumes! With a huge catalogue of free, discounted and rare books to choose from it is a treasure trove for bookworms. You can download the free Kindle reading app for your device here in the UK, or here in the US.

Reblogged from Art, Photography and Poetry

*
To a sunless world
Defiantly determined
Tender beauty wakes
*

Reblogged from The Magical World of G. Michael Vasey:
A prior trip to discover Templštejn ended with the realization that I had somehow taken a wrong direction – at least for a car – yet the end of that journey was a beautiful gorge in the Jihlava valley – well worth seeing. As we left Řeznovice, I determined to try a different route – one that took us into the village of Jamolice. Jamolice was where the original Templar commanderie was set up in Moravia according to the history books and the small village still proudly carries the memory of that in its coat of arms.

Jamolice coat of arms
Jamolice is a small village that essentially hugs the sides of the road passing through it. Once inside the village, we saw a sign pointing ahead to Templštejn but we drove right through the village without seeing another. I was a bit confused as I thought the entrance was in the village but around 1km outside of Jamolice, we found a second sign and pulled off the road and parked. According to my phone GPS, we had a bit of a hike ahead and the day was cold – below zero – and windy, so we wrapped up warmly and set off – my new dowsing rids in hand. After around 2 km, the pathway began to descend gently into the forest and towards the river valley below. The wind was howling and as it ripped through the tree tops. It seemed to me as if the forest sang a song of rustling leaves and swaying boughs and I remarked to my companion on it recalling a day in Prague when the Goddess seemed very present via the wind in the trees. I thought perhaps she was talking again?
Continue reading at The Magical World of G. Michael Vasey

She held up the old photograph in front of her.
‘This is definitely the place,’ Xavier said. He was right. The same trees on the crest of the hill. The wild grass meadow, the hedgerow dividing the fields. This was the right place. So where had the rocks gone?
They walked through the long grass, the wind blowing it in rippling waves across the plain.
‘There,’ pointed Xavier, running ahead and planting his feet in a hollow in the ground. ‘They were here.’
She went ahead and found the next hollow, and the next, like footprints made by a giant striding across the land.
Continue reading at Iain Kelly
Reblogged from Mary Smith’s Place:
After my post about the launch of A-Z of Dumfries: Places-People-History, a number of people asked how we organised it. Some of you were particularly interested in the book signing at Waterstones and if it was worth doing. I should clarify that the book launch and the Waterstones book signing were two separate events.
Organising the book launch:
A-Z of Dumfries is traditionally published but everything I did applies equally to an indie-published book (my friend Lynn Otty and I held a joint launch for our indie-published short story collections following the same steps).
Whether you are buying at author discount from your publisher or from Amazon if you’ve gone down that route this is the main event. This is the one at which you hope to sell lots of books, make a bit of money – and generate interest in your book even after the event.

Decide on a date and time: we chose a Thursday evening towards the end of November, starting at 6.30pm. It’s probably best to avoid a weekend when folk tend to have other commitments. On timing – I’ve found it’s better to make it early enough so people can come along and still have the evening ahead.
Find and book a venue: okay, in this I’m lucky in that as an alumnus of the university I can book a lecture room free of charge. It’s a bit out of town but I live in a rural area, so even a town centre venue means people have to drive to get to events.
Design your invitation: Make sure you include a date by which people should RSVP – some will, some won’t so it’s always a bit of a guessing game but it does help.
Continue reading at Mary Smith’s Place

She found the photograph in grandma’s chest. It was faded, peeling at the edges, and Beth held it as carefully as if it were a butterfly’s wing.
It was a wide, flowering field, the mysterious standing stones conjuring curiosity as well as calm. Grandma’s people had immigrated from Scotland, and Beth wondered if this was a picture of one of the sights her grandmother had seen in her childhood or if this, too, had been passed on from an older time.
“What’s that?”
Continue reading at Western Angels

The villagers toiled to stand tall stones in the fields, once the wildflowers went to seed.
“When the snow’s come,” the elder said, “these markers will lead us home.”
“Why bother?” one of the men asked.
Continue reading at A Bunch of Dumb Words in a Row