Tag Archives: perception

Hunting the ‘Tree Demon’…

* …”Where Hu-Wa-Wa comes and goes becomes a track and all those ways are well trodden. As Hu-Wa-Wa passes through the forest the birds begin to sing… Wood-Pigeon moans. Turtle-Dove coos in answer. As Hu-Wa-Wa passes through the forest the … Continue reading

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Wayland: The White Horse… Stuart France

* But according to some, Wayland has far more onerous responsibilities than shoeing the horses of passing way farers… * A group of local lads were enjoying a drink one evening at the White Horse Inn, Woolstone, when an unknown … Continue reading

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Wayland: The Blessed Isles… Stuart France

* The tone of the tale once Britain is reached, becomes very different… * Alighting on Berkshire’s High Downs, Wayland came upon an ancient chambered tomb, and made it his home. Continue reading at The Silent Eye

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Wayland: Silver-Smith of Souls… Stuart France

* There are a number of intriguing aspects to this legend. The earliest written sources appear late and are decidedly piecemeal. Wayland is the son of a God, Giant, or King of the Otherworld. He is schooled in metallurgy by … Continue reading

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Elusive realities: M. J. Mallon ~ Strange encounters

We were chatting in the kitchen at the time. Through the window I glanced to the right and I saw a momentary striking image, an indeterminate shadow of black and white twirling, pirouetting on the spot. My eyes couldn’t keep … Continue reading

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Priest of the Sun III…

Maiden Castle – Dorchester * … “Whither goest thou, Priest of the Sun?” “I go hence to the High Place for the soul is in need.” “What is that need?” “The need is Light.” “And what will you give for … Continue reading

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Priest of the Sun II

Giant Hill, Cerne-Abbas * …We stop, looking out across the processional way… as the torchlight approaches. The sky is clear, and the Hunter’s Moon illuminates the white outline of the giant. From the Trendle comes the sound of drum beats… … Continue reading

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Priest of the Sun…

Cadbury Castle * ‘…Reality is now shimmering in the heat as the air sparkles and I remember that King Arthur sleeps beneath the hill of Camelot like a child in a giant’s womb… ready to wake in the hour of … Continue reading

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Wilfully blind…

I may sit with my back to most of the house a lot, but I still have to do the housework. I can’t ignore it, even though I can’t necessarily see it. I know it is there and, if I … Continue reading

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WHAT’S UP DOC? Lines of communication IV…

* …’All colour had faded from the sky and although the big board by the gate creaked slightly in the night wind, there was no passer-by to read the sharp, hard letters that cut straight as black knives across its … Continue reading

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