tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83955045217202804592024-03-12T19:41:38.067-07:00Brigid's OracleA site to inspire self expression through poetry,literature,creativity and healing.Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-86975954581419826282022-01-03T04:16:00.003-08:002022-01-03T04:16:51.315-08:00Clearing space for new beginnings…a return to blogging since COVID<p> <span style="font-family: times;">I was outside this morning in my small front garden noticing that there were lots of dead stems littered around which as I pulled away revealed loads of new green foliage on the surface of the earth beneath. The stems came away easily whereas a few months ago they were tied fast. Now they have heaved a big sigh of relief and let go, allowing the new growth to take root and start to grow.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">It is New Year 2022. We have been in and out of lockdown for two years and are now entering yet another year of COVID rampant through the world. We are learning to accept and live with it and with restrictions which we would never have envisaged or accepted before the pandemic. When I began this blog on 2009 my world was simpler, less cluttered with technology and the idea of starting a blog emerged from my need to write and to find a way of combining my love of the land, arts and healing with my enjoyment of words and poetry. I am aware that my last post was in 2018 and that five years have passed since I last wrote here. I can hear Wordsworth in my head and the first lines of ‘Tintern Abbey’ :</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; text-indent: -1em;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘<i>Five years have past; five summers, with the length</i></span></span></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>Of five long winters! and again I hear<br /></i></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs<br /></i></span></div><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; text-indent: -1em;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>With a soft inland murmur ….’</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"><i><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; text-indent: -1em;">William Wordsworth </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798</span></i></span></p><div class="c-feature-sub c-feature-sub_vast" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; border: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 33px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></div><span style="font-family: times;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /></span><p><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;">It is not that I haven’t been writing, it is just that my energies have focussed elsewhere. I completed courses in Writing for Therapeutic Purposes and also in 2020 in Natural Mindfulness as a guide. I have also suffered a few health issues especially with my sight. COVID hit: the world changed. My work involved supporting young people’s emotional well-being and going to meet them outdoors often in housing estates, muddy lanes, fields, parks, playing fields, beside the sea, in the woods or on zoom. My belief in nature as healer was strengthened with more and more children and young people suffering mental health issues during the pandemic and spending less and less time outdoors in the fresh air. With families forced to hide indoors, screen time rocketed and became a way of life, with lessons being taught on line via zoom. The screen became the main means of connection with friends, family and the outside world. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"><span face="Overpass, sans-serif" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; font-size: 19px;">‘A recently published study,</span><a data-vars-ea="in article - outbound" data-vars-ec="navigation" data-vars-el="https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-child-data-wave-1-experimental-statistics/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-childrens-survey-experimental-statistics#main-findings" data-vars-event="gaEvent" href="https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-child-data-wave-1-experimental-statistics/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-childrens-survey-experimental-statistics#main-findings" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: #da0e0e; font-size: 19px; text-decoration-line: underline;">The People and Nature </a><a data-vars-ea="in article - outbound" data-vars-ec="navigation" data-vars-el="https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-child-data-wave-1-experimental-statistics/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-childrens-survey-experimental-statistics#main-findings" data-vars-event="gaEvent" href="https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-child-data-wave-1-experimental-statistics/the-people-and-nature-survey-for-england-childrens-survey-experimental-statistics#main-findings" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; color: #da0e0e; font-size: 19px; text-decoration-line: underline;">Survey for England: Children’s survey</a><span face="Overpass, sans-serif" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; font-size: 19px;">, carried out by Natural England, surveyed 1,501 children aged between eight </span><span face="Overpass, sans-serif" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; font-size: 19px;">and 15 across England between August 6 to 18 2020. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; font-size: 19px;">Six in 10 children said they had spent less time outdoors</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; font-size: 19px;"> since the pandemic began, whereas only 25 per cent reported spending more time outside, and a staggering 81 per cent of children said they had spent less time outside with friends - although this figure may have been influenced by the closure of schools.</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; font-size: 19px;"> Despite 60 per cent of children reporting they had spent less time outdoors since the coronavirus pandemic began, 79 per cent of those children reported that spending time in nature and with wildlife "made them very happy."</span></span></p><div class="sc-brSvTw eNlPPE markup" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">This extract was sourced from an edition of The Gazette and an article by Rebecca Beardmore 3 Nov 2020.</span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">During COVID, I have been fortunate to live in Cornwall and be able to access nature regularly, although more within the immediate proximity of my home.Not all children in Cornwall live by the sea; not all have access to a car . Spaces like the green on my housing estate previously never used suddenly rang with children’s voices as they managed to get outside and play football or just sat outside chatting with their friends. Families were out on bikes as the roads were suddenly quieter. Birdsong was much more noticeable. Young people camped out and went swimming at a nearby quarry as being inland and three miles from the sea, this was the most immediate wild space. Liminal spaces on the fringes of housing estates, back lanes, footpaths hitherto ignored were suddenly passageways into nature and a way out of town that didn’t involve a car. Our local carn with its heritage mining trails linking moors and woodland to the sea was suddenly a hive of activity. </span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;">Cornwall in lockdown 2020 was freed from the heavy influx of tourists that had blocked our roads and beaches for so long and suddenly in the middle of May and June 2020 with the sun beating down and blue skies we could enjoy empty beaches and oceans: wild swimming and flocks of ‘Bluetits’..( mainly women who wanted to enjoy the benefits of salt water swimming for well-being and mental health ) emerged. Cornwall was a haven for those lucky enough to be able to escape the city and move to their second homes to work from home. House prices soared as people realised that they could work from home in a place like Cornwall and be near to natural outdoor spaces. Programmes on Cornwall revealing every hitherto unspoilt nook and cranny regularly filled our evening viewing, increasing this county’s appeal as a tourist destination and haven in the UK, when COVID limited overseas travel and BREXIT curtailed our freedom to live and work in Europe or buy a home on the Costa del Sol. Boris Johnson added to this by selecting Cornwall for the G7 Summit in 2021 placing it on the world stage with President Biden and his wife visiting St Ia Catholic Church for a service and Kate Middleton visiting their local primary school. Boris was inspired to use Carbis Bay with its stunning white beaches and panorama because of his own childhood memories of holidays spent there as well as family links with the granite house Trevose View, home of his great grandparents. It was here that his grandmother went into labour with his father Stanley. </span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"> And so the cycle of links with childhood and nature even influenced Boris Johnson to imagine a world greener and bluer and cleaner. Unfortunately, the fact that the hotel built several meeting rooms without planning permission destroying woodland and coastline in the process and ploughing up the previously quiet and unspoilt beach with diggers caused hundreds of people to protest. G7 increased the visibility of Cornwall and brought with it a whole new set of environmental dilemmas.</span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"> Back to clearing away the old stems in my front garden. I guess that the flow of my thoughts has cleared my mind of some of the experiences I have had during these years when my writing on this blog remained dormant. Clearing away the past, the old year and making space for the new. Not only space on the page for new ideas and inspiration, but space in this brave new world for hope for a greener future for the planet. My world has been limited and also stretched beyond my imagination during the past two years by the pandemic. The place where I live has changed. Planting seeds, watching for new shoots to appear and spending time just being in nature is more important than ever for us all. The world has changed. Mother Nature is angry and wounded begging for us to listen as she howls in every new hurricane and weeps with the melting of each new ice cap into the deep. We need to listen, clear away the stems of past conditioning, return to our roots in nature as our mother. Children all around the world are starting amazing new initiatives inspired by Greta Thunberg to create a greener future. They are the shoots, the new life fighting to survive through this hard winter of ignorance and greed. We need to nurture the spaces in our lives where we too can grow our own new shoots for a greener future and where better to start than the earth near our front door. </span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 32px; margin: 20px 0px;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p></div><p><br /></p>Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-10275960850560708242018-11-05T03:11:00.000-08:002018-11-05T03:11:23.175-08:00Stepping Stones to Standing Stones
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This piece was written in response to a Therapeutic Writing exercise to find stepping stones or moments in your life which have informed your lifepath …..I thought I would like to share it as it is a while since I have written on this blog and it shows where my love of landscape and sites came from. </div>
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It was a time when I
was feeling trapped in further education having returned to teaching
and getting a management job which was very stressful; it was the
summer holidays and I realised I would be working; preparing
timetables, interviewing students, and lesson planning for classes I
had not even met yet made to complete a year’s preparation in
advance which felt ridiculous. I was feeling very trapped as the job
wasn’t what I had thought it would be and I decided to get away on
my own for a holiday to the Outer Hebrides. I had been longing to
return to Scotland having visited Mull and Iona and travelled on the
West Coast railway from Glasgow to Fort William and Oban. </div>
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The calling
to do another pilgrimage to The Outer Hebrides a skinny narrow finger
of four islands the joints between them being small waterways one
crossed by passenger ferry was pressing and in particular the idea of
visiting and standing within the stone circle west of Stornoway on
the Isle of Lewis called Callanish. I was fascinated by the ancient
stone circles, archaeological sites and their links to the heavens
and the wheel of the year, their position on lines of energy leys and
their alignment to other sites in the landscape as well as their
being joined by ley lines across the country. Lewis was one of the
farthest places from West Cornwall I could have chosen to visit apart
from Orkney and Shetland which I still reserve for another trip.</div>
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I
had begun this fascination as a child following my dad to digs of hut
circles collecting flint arrowheads, scapers and bronze age and
neolithic pottery as well as spindle whorls and clay pipes in our
back garden. Dad had an instinct as deep as the ancients rooted in
his veins and could dream a site which next day he would find
accidentally by jumping a granite wall into a farmer’s field to
retrieve a Roman coin from the reign of Hadrian or being called to
walk up to our local Carn Brea after his day job as an ambulance
driver whereupon he found three flint arrowheads on a granite boulder
just there not hidden as his dream had foretold. This early influence
of my father hit me in my late twenties and thirties when I was
living in West Penwith at Madron with its own Mother Church and
ancient holy well complete with healing spring and clouties upon the
surrounding blackthorn trees. And thence to the ancient sites of West
Penwith and on to, Bodmin moor, Dartmoor, Somerset and Glastonbury,
Avebury, Stonehenge in Wiltshire and Maiden castle and sites
associated with the Goddess Brigid or Bride in Dorset, on to The
Lakes and Peak District with Arbour Lough and Robin Hoods stride as
well as its white and dark peaks and then to Wales and the border
country castles and dissolved abbeys. History had been my love at A
level and during my studies of Literature at university I had always
maintained a lively curiosity for the times in which an author wrote
as well as being taught in the FR Levis tradition which looks at
literature in its context and at the growth of writing from Greek
theatre to the present day. I had also started reading lots of
literature about stones my favourite being Julian Cope aka Teardrop
Explodes with his weighty book of pilgrimage to sites ‘The Modern
Antiquarian’. I followed in his footsteps as he had photographed
and written about every site in the UK and also Europe, including
poetry and personal musings over a decade or more. His quest inspired
my own, especially as I had always enjoyed his music in the early
80’s ‘Reward’ and ‘Treason’ being two of my favourites as a
teenager. Other inspirations were Hamish Miller’s dowsing of ley
lines throughout the UK in his book ‘The Sun and the Serpent’,
Craig Wetherell’s ‘Bolerian’ and ‘Cornovia’ where he
catalogues all the ancient and more modern sites in Cornwall from
cliff castles and ancient settlements to church crosses, and also
Cheryl Straffon’s ‘Pagan Cornwall Land of the Goddess’ where she
shows the influence of the land as female, fecund, fertile and
forever changing from maiden to mother to crone, as well as the
influence of early female deities in the shaping of the landscape and
its sites. Monica Sjoo’s art compliments this and her book ‘The
Great Cosmic Mother’ was a revelation to me in terms of her showing
the beginnings of goddess culture in Africa and thence to Europe and
beyond, showing the links of the sites to the cycles of birth,
fertility and death which parallel the three stages of womanhood from
maiden to mother to crone.</div>
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I had also travelled to Malta to stay on
Gozo and see for myself the ancient goddess temples that people these
islands with their link as a trading and resting place between
mainland Africa and Europe. I had also visited numerous sites in
Greece from the Acropolis in Athens to Olympia, Mycenae and the
wonderful healing site and theatre at Epidaurus, as well as Crete
with its Minotaur and ancient Knossos to Skopelos, Skiathos, Corfu
and also Hydra. Then Turkey with the wonderful ancient city ruins of
Ephesus. Yes, I certainly had a fascination for stones and ruins
which began in the simple act of digging in my own back garden with a
little metal child’s red trowel with a wooden handle and a plastic
slide box filled with cotton wool to store my stone found treasures.</div>
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Callanish predated Stonehenge by 500 years and aligns with the cycles of the sun and moon, particularly
at the winter and midsummer solstice. The stones resemble grey
striated fingers narrower and much more elegant and tall compared to
our squat granite Cornish circles.. here was what seemed a temple of
great significance positioned as it was on peat bog to the Northwest
of Scotland and yet near to Norway and the Arctic circle far far
north in a magical cold climate and landscape of wide skies and stark
hills. They are made of Lewisan gneiss a striated grey and white
stone and form a cruciform with an avenue of stones leading toward
it. They resemble tall bards overseeing the land, guardians of loch
and moor; here in this spacious landscape of ever changing wild skies
with running clouds and waving seas there is a dramatic interface of
light and shadow. At the time I was single, and yearning for space
meaning and time to be free and wild, to be rooted and in touch with
the earth and the goddess of the land and also to try a small
adventure independent and able to map my own route and travel at my
own pace without the distraction of having to take on the
responsibility of someone else’s needs and agenda. I think all too
often when single, I felt I needed a companion to somehow justify my
own being rather than being able to travel independently and have
faith in my self and my own instincts. Independence is a luxury which
I have fostered since these early forays and now have the yearning to
follow again. </div>
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I remember booking into a stone croft hostel and having
it all to myself for three days in the North of the island of Lewis,
hiring a bike and peddling out for a Sunday visit to a black house
only to discover that the locals were all Presbyterian and that it
was a sin to drink and do anything really, but go to church on a
Sunday. It was a strange dark land of abandoned crofts, houses and
black houses from the clearances and just pure poverty being so far
away from civilization; inland lochs buzzing with midges and peat bog
cut for turfs for fuel. The local road signs were often in Gaelic as
this was the main language. There were four main islands Lewis,
Harris, North and South Uist and Barra to the far south with its
sandy landing strip for aeroplanes and its castle in the centre of
Castle Bay, as well as its Kirk and Indian restaurant on the quayside
which was a welcome sign of diversity and some alternative food. The
Machair was everywhere; fertile plains and dunes lined the coast and
kept the ocean at bay adorned in purple and yellow flowers, as well as
the rare purple Scottish orchid; it is a rich source of wildlife as
well as being grazed by wandering herds of highland cattle and sheep
who also pastured on the white sand beaches leaving their dung behind
them. I remember the wide, empty, white curving shorelines and the
sense of beauty; a wild, magical beauty of isolation and primitive
longing. I felt a sense of deep belonging here, even to the extent
where I looked keenly in estate agent’s windows for properties to
let for a year and maybe a job as a teacher there. Remote, far out, isolated and ancient full of their own singing soul; a Gaelic tongue
still spoken, sung and promoted in the crafts of the islanders who
had led a harsh close knitted life suspicious of incomers still.
Barra and Uist were fiercely Catholic compared to the Presbyterian
Northern Islands and were not touched by the Reformation in the rest
of the country. Compton Mackenzie set ‘Whisky Galore’ here, I
remember visiting his grave in a lonely grey churchyard on Barra and
also trekking in the hills and stumbling across cottages abandoned in
the clearances. I felt brave and miles away listening to the waves on
the shore and talking to my family on the phone; there was a signal near the rocks where I walked in the evening with
only the call of birds and hoarse cries of seals for company. I made
my way by bus through the islands, catching ferries between and rail
and aeroplane to and from. I was alone, but enjoying it, not feeling
lonely and meeting the odd person and chatting as I travelled,
including a nice young American couple in the hostel in Barra who I
walked out with on a Sunday and shared a night out at the pub along
with a Ceilidh eve with the locals.</div>
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I can see that I craved soulfulness and
meaning and that the space and ancient connection of the Outer
Hebrides was exactly what I needed. I needed that sense of homecoming, rootedness,
freedom, wildness and the adventure was my own; not timetabled or
scheduled. I could roam and follow my own rhythm and motion which was
really important as well as getting healthy and not needing a car or
a daily routine. I was also fulfilling a dream of going to a place I
had often visualised. I can see here just how much I gained from the
stepping stone and that I stepped from one time frame into something
completely different a natural 'me' time and an ancient time, where the
clock was the change of the sun, moon, skies and tides and I was outdoors, not trapped behind four walls. I am also aware that this is how I feel now, happy
at home but longing to escape the imposed time schedule of my job so I need to consider my next step, visualise an
adventure and a quest for meaning and motion once more to find growth
and more about myself because this trip taught me I can be
independent, there are other worlds where I feel at home and other
places to be alive and free. I need the outdoors, open space, nature,
travel, history, learning and to discover new vistas and follow my
interests and passions as here is where the true creative flow lies.</div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-15043861196055199732017-08-06T04:26:00.004-07:002017-08-06T04:33:18.450-07:00Lammas - Woman WanderingWoman Wandering<br />
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Lammas...harvest and the deep pull of land and sea as the light shines blue and corn undulates in yellow gold. I took a walk from Housel Bay on the Lizard to Church Cove .The air was fresh and warm for the first time in weeks after thunderstorms last weekend. The orange fume of whispering jacks and the mauve of heather strikes me ...it is August, harvest and everywhere there is a flow, a dance, a fluttering and fanfare of wings: a rare yellow butterfly over the swirling ocean pool of Church Cove; the translucent lace wings of a dragonfly resting on blackthorn with vivid green and yellow body paint; swallows in the Norman porch of St Winwallow swerving in and out of the rafters: or a host of chattering sparrows fluffing feathers in dust or appearing suddenly en mass from the hedgerow. This joy in movement, in flight, in being: the first bitter- sweet taste of blackberries and the salty smell of mackerel seas. Mother Ocean swirling and curling around serpentine rocks, spiralling me into a new trance of harmony and the realisation that here sitting in shorts and a vest top on hot rock and slipway, writing beside the sea is where I like to be and where I feel at peace with the sun browning my skin and the sun hypnotic on the surface of the water. <br />
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Here in this space at Church Cove there is an ancient magic of peace. A stream bounces over green slime ledges slithering over lichen and slashed rock. The swell and surge of sea over blood serpentine, the rhythmic pull of tides, the place of deep knowing, a cauldron of fishers' spells . I am aware of the dance around and within, as well as the wheel turning as the bone white stems of cow parsley are now fragile reminders of the passage of days into weeks and months as the wheel turns. The dragonfly rests and I am blessed with her queenly presence then in a flash, she flies; the swallows swoop toward me like arrows from heaven; and the yellow butterfly floats on the sweet breeze as I enter the lush depth of the cove, throwing my body into the sea swirling light to join the dance of tide and time .Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-61047796523666072482017-01-09T02:45:00.003-08:002017-01-09T02:45:36.058-08:00Carn Marth ...further musingsYesterday was grey: mizzle threatened to shadow the coast so I headed inland to Carn Marth; the highest and best view point in this part of Cornwall. Carn Marth is softer than Carn Brea, her brother carn, and her slopes remain unspoilt by the encroaching industry which ruins the aspect of the North coast. Carn Marth is altogether a softer, more inviting prospect as she can be approached from lanes on all sides and there is no main road to ruin her peace and timelessness. <br />
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I decided to park on the southern side coming in from Lanner hill and driving along toward Carharrack, topping to park on the small road where it says Bridleway on the left just opposite the road down to Trevarth. I took the right hand fork which swept around the skirts of the carn past a small quarry pool and then on toward the bottom of the main granite and quartz track that leads from Carharrack up to the top of the carn. This path came and joined the main path opposite a recently rebuilt farm cottage which has superb views stretching to Carrick Roads and Falmouth. The sky was a palette of grey and silver with hints of rose as it was mid afternoon and would be dusk in a couple of hours. There was a break in the clouds where a shaft of mellow, golden light shone through to illuminate the panorama of Cornwall which lies prone before you at this point with the clay tips of St Austell and Bodmin Moor clearly visible in the far distance to the East.<br />
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I continued uphill past the odd, shaggy pony in the field and two farmers out on a Sunday muck spreading. The scene is very rugged here and is scarred by mining and quarrying. The tramroad from Portreath to Devoran passed along the southern slope of Carn Marth and this route along with other pathways and bridleways makes it a mecca for those interested in Cornish Industrial heritage. As you climb to the summit, the view along the North coast stretches out to include Trevose Head in the far distance and St Agnes Beacon and the inlet of Portreath as you continue to scan along. I came up to Carn Marth to watch the solar Eclipse of August 1999 knowing that this was one of the highest points in the county from which to see it. I remember the looming black cloud that ominously hid the sun from view and descended upon us as we stood in awe that day near midday. If you want to see the shape and breadth of the county this is one of those view points. <br />
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I reached the top along with two young girls on their ponies out for an afternoon ride. One had a tee shirt on and seemed oblivious to the winter damp. She laughed as she reined her pony into the water of the quarry pool at the summit. There was a family on the far bank fishing and a couple of mountain bikers out for a ride. It is an amazing pool this quarry pool similar to one on Bodmin Moor near the Hurlers; it is probably swimmable and people fish here. The edges are sheer granite and stepped in places so you can crouch near the water. It has a feeling of a magical lake and one could imagine the sword of Arthur appearing from the depths,especially on a still summer afternoon when all you can hear is the hum of bees and the dizzy sound of midges over the shallows.<br />
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Now it is clearly the dead time of the year when the land is wrapped in its own pale shawl of copper and bronze leaves. The trees are bone pale and bare their thin arms to the grey skies. The scene is lit by the odd fuse of gorse blossom or the light of the sun on bracken rendering it a rusty orange against the odd patch of blue. The air is calm and the only sounds are the calls of hedgerow birds. <br />
<br />
I spend more time looking at the view from the top and then take the main path down again toward the ruin of Wheal Amelia and Figgy Dowdy's Well off to the left which I wrote about in a previous post. I climb the granite steps down to the well now encaged behind iron bars with a solitary red ribbon tied as a wish. The ground near the well is sodden with fallen leaves and a pool of rain water which offers vivid reflections of bare branches and sky. I make my wishes here in this timeless, peaceful place with only birdsong and the sound of pigs rooting in a nearby field for company.<br />
<br />
It's starting to get mizzly so I decide not to loiter and take the path down to Wheal Amelia.Then off left along the footpath skirting the carn to the south,past another large granite house with fine views and two green loungers in the front, moorland garden to appreciate the view. The path leads on until it forks into a lane off downhill to the left. I continue heading down and around on the path through a copse of dark pine and fir trees until I reach my car again. <br />
<br />
This is only a short one hour stroll but I am satisfied and content that I have managed to escape easily into a sense of timelessness. The past is ever present here and the modern world fades away with the traffic on its way to Falmouth. Mine, quarry, tram road, barrows and boulders, granite gate posts, farm cottages and ponies all harmonise here in this inland space. I am struck by how easy it is to get away from the town into areas like this still and am fascinated by how paths take me out of my everyday routine into the past so readily. All I do is walk the land as and when I have space out of my busy work life. I have walked to Carn Marth so many times at different ages and stages in my life. As a child I would scramble up here from Gwennap Pit and come with jam pots to catch tadpoles or go wading in shorts and vest top in the summer. I would come here as a teenager to escape the parents and sit and write or wander or come biking with my friends with a picnic. Now I regularly come here again for ambles or walking the tramway and finding new routes including the mining villages that skirt this carn: Caharrack, St Day, Lanner, Gwennap and on to Frogpool or Chacewater. It is a rich landscape scarred and yet created by mining. It is not the picture postcard Cornwall of television but the raw, rugged interior pulse that beats and waits to be discovered.<br />
<br />
At the moment I am reading an inspiring book by Sharon Blackie called 'If Women Rose Rooted' which traces her own pilgrimage and journey as a woman and feminist from the 'Wasteland' of modern, industrial society on a quest for connection, nourishment and belonging which leads her to the far west of Ireland and North West Isle of Lewis in Scotland. She interweaves Celtic mythology and folklore with her own personal search and talks to various wise women healers, storytellers, crafters, writers and environmentalists on her journey; all of whom have also been on that search for rootedness and a way of life which nurtures and fosters a sense of belonging to the land and community. It is through reading this book that I felt compelled to start writing and recording my walks and ideas,for it is my way of being rooted and grounded. I have walked this Celtic land my whole life and am lucky to feel a sense of belonging in the place that I was born and have worked. I see now the importance of that rootedness for it imbues one with a sense of wellbeing in a fast and destructive world and nurtures a sense of care for the land and a permanent sense of being its guardian and protector. By walking familiar places one can see the changes happening and be awakened into action; whether it be to write a letter about litter, to be part of a wildlife protection group or simply to ensure a path remains open to walkers and not shut down by greedy landowners. Women who walk can gain strength and power. a sense of self sufficiency and ability to explore beyond. They can teach and share the land and their own sense of belonging with their children and community so that spots like Carn Marth remain sites of special interest and protected for future generations. <br />
<br />
Blackie says in her book; ' One of the wounds dealt to us by the coming of the Wastelnad is our severance form the land, the rupturing of the relationship between people and their places. The healing of the Wasteland requires a healing of the wound. Our Return then, requires a place in which we can be grounded, rooted; a place in which we can fully embrace the natural world around us, and our part in it. A place from which we can speak.' pg 280 'If Women Rose Rooted'.<br />
<br />
Blessed Be XXX<br />
<br />Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-46712025642267647172017-01-02T09:26:00.001-08:002017-01-03T03:49:31.610-08:00New Year 2017 - Resolutions at St Agnes Beacon<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">New Year and it dawned bright this morning after a rain spotted and grey New Year's Day. I have resolved to begin writing my regular posts after a three year break. I started today on Jan 2 2017 with a walk around St Agnes Beacon and climb up to the Beacon, as well as around the coast. The day was stunning and welcomed a walk with its clear, winter skies and brittle cold. I parked my car on the Beacon Road, surprised at how many other people in woolly, bobbled hats and walking boots seemed to have the same idea. I imagine everyone, like me, was making the most of a day of pure sunshine and the chance to walk off the Christmas excesses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like this time of year as it is a time of clearing and cleansing after the over indulgence of Christmas. I parked away from the throng and climbed the path that skirted away from the main one which was getting eroded by the popularity of the walk. I am aware more than ever on my walks of this issue of erosion and just the numbers of people now living in Cornwall and walking. This, along with the fierce storms of latter years, has left an enduring mark:less space to breathe and be without the interruption of voices or other feet on the same path.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The views from the Beacon were stunning today and I could see as far up the coast as Trevose Head and along to St Austell clay pits as well as over to Carrick Roads and Carn Brea. The coast was a ribbon of headlands in a veil of misty sunlight and I found a niche below a white quartz outcrop with a wooden bench and a view nestled in the lea of the beacon, out of the wind. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGnLdDFavqJmyBaiuanXKnWFbGld0c7wpyUwYVA9HSOmHaP7oMgbWMLCkdgPBMjLRb7247ozS6rteLVIJD-xhsOxr0d1AAHatfPt9HLL7qCTXmDTVSkVnvI7FbZCX1V4pbG-mTGBzXqpMu/s1600/20170102_132847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGnLdDFavqJmyBaiuanXKnWFbGld0c7wpyUwYVA9HSOmHaP7oMgbWMLCkdgPBMjLRb7247ozS6rteLVIJD-xhsOxr0d1AAHatfPt9HLL7qCTXmDTVSkVnvI7FbZCX1V4pbG-mTGBzXqpMu/s320/20170102_132847.jpg" width="192" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">View to Chapel Porth</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9cDZJh0rLM8kH5bEZ2fli9rM5_SzCcq71NDEJB51Xt1AetVuJWkSnqxbdtcUpI9kDnvIUEm8EZVHE8ydIypojsFko-udsP6O1C44H0qGfLNcNytuRfn7ynD6gzx3G26s1fQw80e80Fxk/s1600/20170102_123153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9cDZJh0rLM8kH5bEZ2fli9rM5_SzCcq71NDEJB51Xt1AetVuJWkSnqxbdtcUpI9kDnvIUEm8EZVHE8ydIypojsFko-udsP6O1C44H0qGfLNcNytuRfn7ynD6gzx3G26s1fQw80e80Fxk/s320/20170102_123153.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">View from the Beacon toward St Agnes and beyond</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f5s-GeeQUKkc9_E3F8I8ezLDeSZiHw6J4PuReIhyphenhyphenBGPJyGN-lQFA3ec71AfcFO0pm7cimVx0jHMWzGhBL22_OMjMW0hbdGN1UMvI6EcH-EPGB2kyMsJ7AMqJ_0sK46PsTZQCUPOLvclV/s1600/20170102_134320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f5s-GeeQUKkc9_E3F8I8ezLDeSZiHw6J4PuReIhyphenhyphenBGPJyGN-lQFA3ec71AfcFO0pm7cimVx0jHMWzGhBL22_OMjMW0hbdGN1UMvI6EcH-EPGB2kyMsJ7AMqJ_0sK46PsTZQCUPOLvclV/s320/20170102_134320.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wheal Coates in the sunlight </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgta_6PA4_-r8OaHXSlkJ-8eZ4I8-K61awx8v67YpkxntP-cWSYYCws2K_hC9Y77eOnh3rUV2llupUdaD9QgPunCr-V7lLevvB_VmVKW4lDaS5nVTLtml54UmFC07RYn0dlB3dB9BOmMm8J/s1600/20170102_133939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgta_6PA4_-r8OaHXSlkJ-8eZ4I8-K61awx8v67YpkxntP-cWSYYCws2K_hC9Y77eOnh3rUV2llupUdaD9QgPunCr-V7lLevvB_VmVKW4lDaS5nVTLtml54UmFC07RYn0dlB3dB9BOmMm8J/s320/20170102_133939.jpg" width="192" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Low tide view to St Ives</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJVKd1onIiaASCTAwwOnMSM0Oiy0HoVTFebrj3NR7EGDbpDfFrxPuoY3F6yRbAAE7IGf7yEgNwc_vzkg_9UmjW_x5-yNyvSKoOKTjWxLFW5xsmJtVUxFxRdiHE8Yp_RM5LCNJK7wHCqd0/s1600/20170102_142656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJVKd1onIiaASCTAwwOnMSM0Oiy0HoVTFebrj3NR7EGDbpDfFrxPuoY3F6yRbAAE7IGf7yEgNwc_vzkg_9UmjW_x5-yNyvSKoOKTjWxLFW5xsmJtVUxFxRdiHE8Yp_RM5LCNJK7wHCqd0/s320/20170102_142656.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sentry box</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8r55ppnXT-JKIplbEP4zykUoigsFKISsVWNhmR687UxlmwrKTjv9S7MGBb_Nxf8hU7ml-I3VwPwTNi9b1yEtels-PJ9lr74EE4ayKIMgqnACRrQt-rKWMwdsOPK0VLGkfDnUcK2s2LOg/s1600/20170102_122732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8r55ppnXT-JKIplbEP4zykUoigsFKISsVWNhmR687UxlmwrKTjv9S7MGBb_Nxf8hU7ml-I3VwPwTNi9b1yEtels-PJ9lr74EE4ayKIMgqnACRrQt-rKWMwdsOPK0VLGkfDnUcK2s2LOg/s320/20170102_122732.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People on top of Beacon</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> <strike></strike><br />
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<br />
</strong>For the first time in ages I remembered I had my note book on me and managed to scribble some lines:<br />
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ST AGNES BEACON<i></i></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This browed old crone in bracken cape <br />
Glass grey eyes and peaty skin<br />
She is a grin of quartz<br />
Blood oxide veins run deep<br />
Her apron of gorse spills boulders down valley</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To where cattle blink in the pale light</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Smoke tendrils and floats skywards to<br />
A silhouetted panorama of sisters Brea and Marth<br />
She is warming her cold old bones in winter's rays<br />
Spreading heathery arms wide to clutch blue sky<br />
Her brittle claws grasp an unexpected star<br />
Wishing on eddies of far North Atlantic frost.<br />
<br />
</i>From here I picked my way on a smaller, narrower snake of a path down to one that skirts the edge of the beacon leading to the right and over a stile into a green farmer's field with a sign 'Beware of the bull.' Thankfully, there was no bull in sight and the path led into a slurry pit and then a farm yard where there is a caravan site in summer months. Across the Beacon road to the left and then off on a footpath to the coast marked Chapel Porth. I did not go as far a Chapel Porth, but walked straight ahead to the coast path and off towards the right and Wheal Coates with its magnificent coastal views down to St Ives. The tide below was out and people were walking the sands etched with running water and silhouettes. The ocean was a turquoise green, the coast bathed in a shimmer of sunlight and shadow. It looks translucent and shining like a land in old stories ancient and renewed by this sudden gift of sunlight. From Wheal Coates, I clambered upward and along the top to St Agnes Head with more stunning views up the North coast to Trevose Head, then cut inland past quarries and mine dumps to where I joined the road to the coast by an old second world war sentry box of Cameron Camp - all that remains of a training camp for the 10th Light Anti Aircraft Battery built in 1939-40 and used later by American troops prior to the D Day Landings. Then back to the road and my car...refreshed and full of New Year's resolution.</span> <br />
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Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-88164185723436398072013-05-27T11:02:00.001-07:002013-05-27T11:02:45.791-07:00Healing Room ,Sinéad O'Connor<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/2zZ_X0kLQ_c" width="459"></iframe><br />
Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-84177122526230518692013-05-27T11:01:00.001-07:002013-05-27T11:01:41.086-07:00Songs and Poetry that speak of healing.......<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/OOgpT5rEKIU" width="459"></iframe> <br />
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I love this song.....now here is someone coming through and finding they can allow all the feelings and really going on the journey into healing and faith and self belief...at least that's what I read into it......<br />
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Mary Oliver the poet also writes about this in her poem 'The Journey':<br />
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<div align="left"></div><span class="size18" style="color: #ddb175; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div align="left"><b><i></i></b> </div><div align="left"><b><i></i></b> </div><div align="left"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><b><i>The Journey</i></b></span></div></span><div align="left"><span class="Courier18" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day you finally knew</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">what you had to do, and began,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">though the voices around you</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">kept shouting</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">their bad advice--</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">though the whole house</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">began to tremble</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and you felt the old tug</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">at your ankles.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Mend my life!"</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">each voice cried.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But you didn't stop.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You knew what you had to do,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">though the wind pried</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">with its stiff fingers</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">at the very foundations,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">though their melancholy</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">was terrible.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was already late</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">enough, and a wild night,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and the road full of fallen</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">branches and stones.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But little by little,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as you left their voices behind,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the stars began to burn</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">through the sheets of clouds,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and there was a new voice</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">which you slowly</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">recognized as your own,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that kept you company</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as you strode deeper and deeper</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">into the world,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">determined to do</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the only thing you could do--</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">determined to save</span></div><div align="left"></div><span class="size12" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div align="left">the only life you could save.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Mary Oliver</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">And here in her poem:</div><span class="size14" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div align="left"><b><i></i></b> </div><div align="left"><b><i></i></b> </div><div align="left"><span style="color: lime;"><b><i>Wild Geese</i></b></span></div></span><div align="left"><span class="size18" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You do not have to be good.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You do not have to walk on your knees</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You only have to let the soft animal of your body</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">love what it loves.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meanwhile the world goes on.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">are moving across the landscapes, </span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">over the prairies and the deep trees,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the mountains and the rivers.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">are heading home again.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, </span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the world offers itself to your imagination,</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting </span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">over and over announcing your place </span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in the family of things.</span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: lime;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: lime;"><span class="size12" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">from </span><span class="size12" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Dream Work</i></span></span><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> by Mary Oliver </span></div><div align="left"><span class="size12" style="color: lime; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">published by Atlantic Monthly Press</span></div><div align="left"></div><span class="size12" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div align="left">© Mary Oliver</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">And here I think Sinead sums it up.....it's inside us all...the healing room.....</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><br />
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</div></span>Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-9600697013319926662013-05-27T10:27:00.001-07:002013-05-27T10:27:23.082-07:00October Project - Bury My Lovely<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/puGEpGzk2hk" width="459"></iframe><br />
Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-65978449910082604682013-05-27T10:23:00.002-07:002013-05-27T10:23:34.247-07:00Healing the shadows
Been thinking a lot about the shadows we all carry deep inside...the scars, the wounds, the hurts from childhood and the words of William Blake in 'Infant Joy' where the new born soul is born as an expression of joy....'I happy am'......and I thought that these music videos seem to sum this up to some degree.
How I wish we could heal these wounds and wash away the pain.......I have been wondering how possible this is for those who have had a life time of hurt...and look around me at the society we live in and feel completely overwhelmed by the suffering caused by violence and abuse.....and yet there is also so much hope and so much love and wish for healing in spite of this and the more light and love we share now the more hope there is for others.......
I know that for me the way through has been through art, poetry, music, friendship and nature......also through working with these wounds in a small way .....I do believe as Ghandi says the 'we have to be the change we want to see happen in the world' and even when it is hard to still be at all it is necessary to learn, grow and become .....keeping the channels of loving kindness open
Blessed Be xxxPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-49431146510287357272013-05-27T10:06:00.001-07:002013-05-27T10:06:57.683-07:00Sarah McLachlan - Adia [Official Music Video]<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/CJC4USrkLeI" width="459"></iframe><br />
Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-5311561125488603422012-04-29T04:56:00.001-07:002012-04-29T04:56:10.724-07:00Beltane Musings....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I cannot really believe Beltane is almost here again and yet there is so much around us to delight in: bluebells raising their chalcedony heads from lush grassy banks and woody shades; the hawthorn starting to blossom after the snowy bursts of Blackthorn; wild garlic on every back and hedgerow....what a blessing all this flowery beauty is all watered by the rains which seem to have been rather abundant in Cornwall in April.
I seem to have been absent from blogging for a while....I have been out and about as usual enjoying nature and also practising more healing from home which is beneficial to my state of inner peace and calm.I have also been doing more one to one work with children both emotional healing and teaching.
Beltane is a time to really appreciate the beauty of mother Nature all around us fertile and free...especially in these recession driven times when so much is more expensive a walk can be a great meditation and salve and costs nothing especially if you can walk out from your own front door to appreciate it and be.
It is also a time of love and lust for life as we walk the dragon ley lines and connect with source energy: the firey dance of delight in all the blessings we have been offered and jumping the Beltane fire, symbolic of the shift from winter to summer as well as a cleansing and purification of the land and home. This is a time to gather with others and to share the warmth of community and friendship.Appreciate every day the blessings the Goddess has bestowed upon you however small and as you sow these seeds of gratitude and love in your heart so will she bless you in an abundance of ways bringing more love into your life and more healing. This is a time to come from the heart chakra and be centred in 'heartfelt' being, letting love for your fellow beings guide you on your path and flow through your body.... let your heart be your guide..xxxPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-66985389113902862832012-02-10T11:12:00.001-08:002012-02-14T05:25:46.642-08:00Imbolc Blessings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wdsEe_SVMXqzvkEuO6xTUx9uduh3yzeJksCZaF9s7masLz3EbaTHBxJU0YB5UU_DgGGosdnK0O8b6-MhD6AXFeoAQHRO2xePBYWv9yPj7mqsMrn8Pge_BxEZd5n5DQqcHGWHUBJ48XvP/s1600/Nov+to+Feb+2012+145.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wdsEe_SVMXqzvkEuO6xTUx9uduh3yzeJksCZaF9s7masLz3EbaTHBxJU0YB5UU_DgGGosdnK0O8b6-MhD6AXFeoAQHRO2xePBYWv9yPj7mqsMrn8Pge_BxEZd5n5DQqcHGWHUBJ48XvP/s320/Nov+to+Feb+2012+145.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707587696312621586" /></a><br /><br />I celebrated Imbolc with a number of walks by streams and to nearby wishing wells. It was lovely to enjoy the clear blue skies and crystal light of the sun as it lit the newly budding branches. I was struck by birdsong and water flowing.By green shoots and ice on frozen puddles. By muddy paths and the freshness of the air. This time of year always holds special meaning for me. I love the chrisp air and the sense of the earth awakening after a long winter sleep. This year I am also appreciating the return of my sight. I have had a reoccurence of a chronic eye condition which has left me feeling very scared and vulnerable....I prayed to Brigid for healing and lit candles in her memory as well as asking for healing at the wells. Luckily my prayers were answered lst Friday the day after Imbolc when the grey over my right eye started to clear again. I do not know when this greyness will strike and as I am reliant on my right eye having lost my left eye central vision to PIC a rare eye condition I am thankful for the sight I have. Seeing clearly is a most precious gift and one I cannot take for granted...this is a time for rest and healing.<br /><br />This time of year is a time to wake up and start to appreciate the outdoors again...to hear the faint music of spring awakening in the land and experience the final frosts and sharp cold of winter. There is hope in the darkness as the evenings gradually grow longer and the sun grows in strength. We welcome Brigid to our home and hearth to bring in healing, inspiration, warmth and fresh ideas. We sow the seeds now for the year to come and decide what dreams of winter we would like to awaken and nurture into life.<br /><br />I am aware of the need for healing on this earth and the need to use my healing gifts more consciously in my daily life. As space is cleared in my home ....spring cleaning....I am open to new fresh ideas and to welcoming Brigid's gifts of healing and inspiration into my home.<br /><br />Blessed Be xxxPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-24162741692508615162011-11-26T05:15:00.000-08:002011-11-26T05:17:39.004-08:00The Red Shoes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT3oLT2jPc5n8WDxkSaKuH1Jx-s_JdPDQ6FdZsElZlTOWDhx1l0Mw1bZ1iGyh4q8q2vEbWhcTsw2nSoOWiZXAvlhuvIyX-Kr8lspI0sHD3ml94C8Yi9kSI80V3T2aZ_6GgPaCO7uJo6rNE/s1600/Red_Shoes.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT3oLT2jPc5n8WDxkSaKuH1Jx-s_JdPDQ6FdZsElZlTOWDhx1l0Mw1bZ1iGyh4q8q2vEbWhcTsw2nSoOWiZXAvlhuvIyX-Kr8lspI0sHD3ml94C8Yi9kSI80V3T2aZ_6GgPaCO7uJo6rNE/s320/Red_Shoes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679293020238797266" /></a>Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-35772631998236854642011-11-26T03:24:00.000-08:002011-11-26T05:07:40.112-08:00Talking of Time and 'The Red Shoes'I want to take time....time to pause and reflect, time to write and dream and create......there isn't enough time...I need time off.... I need time out....haven't the time......<br /><br />It seems that I am often craving time to stretch my spiritual and creative self and to live more in tune with my energies rather than be thrust on the conveyor belt that insists I go to work...not that I do not like my work...I am fortunate to have a job whereby I feel I can make a difference and support others to on their personal path. It involves helping to heal the wounds caused by abuse: physical, emotional, mental and financial...the wounds caused by cycles of control, fear, obligation, guilt which go back through generations.The job could be just a job, but for me it is more of a vocational choice and an area that has involved much healing work and personal development in my own life in order that I can feel rooted enough and strong enough to be present for others.<br /><br />Nevertheless I am at a crossroads in terms of time....time to nurture myself, to see friends, to fulfil creative dreams and personal projects.I wonder how this can be achieved and I often believe that it can be a luxury to even have time when there is so much suffering in the world. I know that much of the work is being done in an every day sense of being in the moment, fully present and aware, of dealing with one thing at a time, of finding 'slow time' as Gill Edwards puts it in 'Life is a Gift'.I also find Reiki healing a salve, as self healing and channeling Reiki energy to heal others seems to slow time and allow me to focus on the present moment as it is in my body. I feel more attuned to energy around me and to my own sense of balance and wholeness. Sending light and healing to where the body knows it is needed seems so simple now as I now trust my body to know what it needs and listen to its voice. This process of trusting the body has for me been a long healing process as given my own history I was body shy for a long time and had not been raised in a family where touch was readily and affectionately given. It was through doing Reiki 1 that I learnt this trust in the healing power of touch and started to discover just how much I could heal in myself just by gong through the key hand positions on the chakras or energy centres.The discovery of how peaceful and grounded Reiki made me feel led me to continue on the Reiki path to Reiki 2 ...healing others...and now to Reiki 3 or Reiki Master/teacher Level.<br /><br />My process over the past six years since discovering Reiki has led to my discovering Spiritual Healing which I studied with NFSH..the BNational Federation of Spiritual Healers. This involves working in the auric field away from the body and experiencing more subtle energies and powerful ones! This is very useful when touch is unwanted or invasive.It is another way of channeling light energy.<br /><br />I work with women in women's self development groups in this way ...slowing down the present moment with its anxieties and preoccupations and using meditation and relaxation to focus attention upon the here and now; letting go of the stress and strain held within the body.I also use poetry, games, art, role play and discussion about self esteem and confidence to allow the body the opportunity and time to express what is held within on an unconscious level.I extend the work from indoors to outdoors and use nature and the landscape of Cornwall as a source of energy and healing.This enables me to blend my own interests with my work so that I feel more fulfiiled and happy.<br /><br />So back to time....it seems I am still here at this crossroads. In my work I have been bringing different skills into practise and realising the potential of healing my own wounds to be able to be there for others. It is an on going process and challenges always arise forcing you back to source...back to centre.<br /><br />If we do not take time out of our busy schedules and hectic lives to pause and reflect, we carry on in ever decreasing circles like the girl in the story of 'The Red Shoes' by Hans Christian Anderson,unable to stop herself dancing so the dancing becomes all there is and her own soul is abandoned to the obsessive rhythm of the dance.Eventually, she begs for the shoes to be cut off along with her feet as this is the only answer for her dance to stop{although the shoes continue dancing off into the hoirzon looking for another soul/sole to steal}.This is what can happen to us if we don't listen to the wisdom of our bodies and slow down....I see nervous exhaustion and pain every day; caused by situations where someone or thing else has held control and women have been forced to just survive in a situation where there was no opportunity to stop the dance until the basic instinct to escape and live kicked in.<br /><br />The story of 'The Red Shoes' can be read on a number of levels: red being the colour of passion,lust and the fact the story in its original form by Hans Christian Anderson has a very moral framework with the girl's soul being stolen by the devil and her being 'taught a lesson' as it were for her desire for the shoes which were a symbol of her free will and pride. This story can also be applied to all sorts of obsessive compulsions and addictions..the need for a sharp and painful intervention in order for the mad dance to end...the girl is left with wooden stumps and feet carved by an 'executioner'... the one who cut off her shoes in an act of pity.She returns to the fold of the church.....typical of a Chriatian morality...she is now meek and humble....saved by God's mercy.<br /><br />In many ways this is a story about possession the mad, obsessive energy that accompanies it so that the will of the human is subjugated to the energy of the thing itself whether it be a drug, a drink, religion, work....whatever....it does not matter what the compulsive activity is it is just that the body suffers to the point of exhaustion and potential breakdown if it carries on unchecked by maybe an inner consciousness or awareness of the dangers it holds. <br /><br />This time of the year is a time to draw inward, reflect and to let go of what is no longer needed, as well as dream into being the next part of the journey.The need to be able to stop the dizzy dance of external demands and come back to source energy, to centre is vital to nourish the soul and heal the body of any unwanted energies. Taking time out is not easy when there are mouths to feed, jobs to be done, deadlines to be met....but as the evenings draw ever closer inward and the stars appear in the indigo sky or as the dawn light wakes us, try to pause..try to take 'slow time'.....<br /><br />Blessed Be xPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-50909233991963030642011-11-25T10:38:00.000-08:002011-11-25T14:27:50.391-08:00Figgy Dowdy's Well<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgr2U8hzTlnZHQVUm2uKbaTyKH-VlsktRdB_CsXP4O6m7O9YzVfffdFf9lvXxGcPwb1r4eJ9e41zNTLLoYeUfhiooz9YMuITb52SK5OIFbmeUX5D7arYvkuhgaIhuCBWLiWYqQ6Jye96Q/s1600/Oct+and+Nov+2011+111.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgr2U8hzTlnZHQVUm2uKbaTyKH-VlsktRdB_CsXP4O6m7O9YzVfffdFf9lvXxGcPwb1r4eJ9e41zNTLLoYeUfhiooz9YMuITb52SK5OIFbmeUX5D7arYvkuhgaIhuCBWLiWYqQ6Jye96Q/s320/Oct+and+Nov+2011+111.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679014647316128930" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Xxjamc05OnPBgjfdItYnruwK7At9p-WPRnGaHv-Lek9s7cb-MbFcbdyM5tLDbUSy3EYgQ_cII6El8eyaaZQluPY7_ywqJsR6dMPVJhym1JhOF-O5AEQnZ9lXn9koQYZL2Igkcce_DQP-/s1600/Oct+and+Nov+2011+095.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Xxjamc05OnPBgjfdItYnruwK7At9p-WPRnGaHv-Lek9s7cb-MbFcbdyM5tLDbUSy3EYgQ_cII6El8eyaaZQluPY7_ywqJsR6dMPVJhym1JhOF-O5AEQnZ9lXn9koQYZL2Igkcce_DQP-/s320/Oct+and+Nov+2011+095.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679014638429025634" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir4VodNgE_KOuCiF8y2CwrXtQ-tImSET51CDSQZrAVvpu1ebuzKWU_a93F7uDRoUYKHuSOmYDDU0XF-Brf9kpjbtW2SdJjDeszMlmLPiTgL-WZd6H3fJR_dnEUwSvKAVgyGWm3Zy9r1xsA/s1600/Oct+and+Nov+2011+107.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir4VodNgE_KOuCiF8y2CwrXtQ-tImSET51CDSQZrAVvpu1ebuzKWU_a93F7uDRoUYKHuSOmYDDU0XF-Brf9kpjbtW2SdJjDeszMlmLPiTgL-WZd6H3fJR_dnEUwSvKAVgyGWm3Zy9r1xsA/s320/Oct+and+Nov+2011+107.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679013796499714274" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcw3XKKuaJB51RhdQcokZA51xBFeRGPFl7KbGoXQq7eYHtJmiQD_94E_TNEC0z6G5YjusvFKWfGIWjoNCwSS-zffGlEdMnHpSoF94vIB8AjoNx5bcZ7LEZ10fB_hxn6nva-Y6n9ANZNFH/s1600/Oct+and+Nov+2011+105.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcw3XKKuaJB51RhdQcokZA51xBFeRGPFl7KbGoXQq7eYHtJmiQD_94E_TNEC0z6G5YjusvFKWfGIWjoNCwSS-zffGlEdMnHpSoF94vIB8AjoNx5bcZ7LEZ10fB_hxn6nva-Y6n9ANZNFH/s320/Oct+and+Nov+2011+105.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679013786859510082" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNq5W_3b2DHBV8jtLzpZ33pfG3KvMYS5r9c2yZOhUeZPa8YfIjecHk5IVsPjGuQkbm0_Q3u3v5WD5-52A-1KnKBLv3xgIgP4hlBuuEJ-jqkfeEgc8szmeTWb7AnCt388fyoFBKmXTckgZ/s1600/Oct+and+Nov+2011+085.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNq5W_3b2DHBV8jtLzpZ33pfG3KvMYS5r9c2yZOhUeZPa8YfIjecHk5IVsPjGuQkbm0_Q3u3v5WD5-52A-1KnKBLv3xgIgP4hlBuuEJ-jqkfeEgc8szmeTWb7AnCt388fyoFBKmXTckgZ/s320/Oct+and+Nov+2011+085.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679011660740564530" /></a><br />On the slopes of Carn Marth on the ouskirts of Redruth towards Lanner lies Figgy Dowdy's Well. The well is reached via the lane past Wheal Amelia mine to Carn Marth quarry and can be accessed through a gap in the hedge and small flight of granite steps.This was originally a spring which was the main supply of drinking water for the surrounding area but was later enclosed by a well structure. It is also known as Margery Daw's well.Margery Daw is thought to be an early Cornish saint and Figgy Dowdy may hark back to an early fertility goddess.Today the well is unfortunately locked in with a barred gate so it is difficult to sample the water but it is obviously still in use as clouties adorn the surrounding tree and the bars. This is a very hidden and peaceful well with obvious links to a female deity. Girls still baptize their dolls here on a Good Friday so there is an association with healing too. <br /><br />The views from Carn Marth are particularly impressive with a 360 degree panorama from the summit towards the lunar landscape of China Clay and St Agnes Beacon. Carrick Roads and Falmouth are to the south with the imposing sister carn of Carn Brea to the North west. The quarry pool is extremely serene and exudes a special quality of light and magic on a clear, still day with the sunshine glittering on the surface. It's a great spot for reflection and the walker can enjoy a range of paths from the top towards the mining villages of St Day and Carharrack, as well as Gwennap Pit. <br /><br />It is a very peaceful and healing place where one can get a sense of perspective and wonder with Cornwall spread out before you on all sides. it was from this spot that I enjoyed the Eclipse as the view is so stunning. As you can see on my particular walk there were just a few ponies munching grass enjoying some Autumnal afternoon sun.Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-55447589132367735272011-08-12T15:36:00.000-07:002011-08-12T16:07:42.673-07:00Hazel Moon<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f555KGdlwBs9R6mDZf0s_m7tyEHh1zxcP7fGU2nAFqVnOddyyye0pKwraf0HHjOP7UQUafAcUHHXQ6qBu9tDZooEGc5et0wsVcVXYGpyfPubx6FAc3uMt1z-PpGTo05evMQzJ1pOaFkV/s1600/hazel+moon.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f555KGdlwBs9R6mDZf0s_m7tyEHh1zxcP7fGU2nAFqVnOddyyye0pKwraf0HHjOP7UQUafAcUHHXQ6qBu9tDZooEGc5et0wsVcVXYGpyfPubx6FAc3uMt1z-PpGTo05evMQzJ1pOaFkV/s320/hazel+moon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640108557553493042" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvfOLQbTkaDtmVKqrkSQR-FdKHIxnCTLe0pr8DN6wP2bFMfvHHnzBXOvaJ3LayhA0p9vFKPqJ2J8ljU85fYEmcyguiBXg0QHytUb0_F1dWoZOXAlgz4hyex7TmJDwUuG9XDuVIoXM9ExS/s1600/Hazel.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvfOLQbTkaDtmVKqrkSQR-FdKHIxnCTLe0pr8DN6wP2bFMfvHHnzBXOvaJ3LayhA0p9vFKPqJ2J8ljU85fYEmcyguiBXg0QHytUb0_F1dWoZOXAlgz4hyex7TmJDwUuG9XDuVIoXM9ExS/s320/Hazel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640108558562392962" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfl2b-Lf4gnkeITJEvf1tMR4XEWAgDMQN6eXTwfj-NMCI1PmyhWzYOvZR3JIpYusLoqpSCSAr2pDayBiAo6xTh_5KsORzp0ElDGoV5r2O5BemQDQSiD7814PSbGLG-tik5diAxcrKEX-1I/s1600/HazelTreeMagick.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfl2b-Lf4gnkeITJEvf1tMR4XEWAgDMQN6eXTwfj-NMCI1PmyhWzYOvZR3JIpYusLoqpSCSAr2pDayBiAo6xTh_5KsORzp0ElDGoV5r2O5BemQDQSiD7814PSbGLG-tik5diAxcrKEX-1I/s320/HazelTreeMagick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640108554335441746" /></a>
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<br />The Hazel - August 5 -Sept 1st
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<br />'Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
<br />sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
<br />climbed up through my conscious mind
<br />as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
<br />cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood -
<br />and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.'
<br />- Pablo Neruda
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<br />The air surrounding hazel trees is said to be magically charged
<br />with the quicksilver energy of exhilaration and inspiration.
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<br /> <strong>'August 5 - September 1:</strong> <strong>The Hazel Moon </strong>was known to the Celts as Coll, which translates to "the life force inside you". This is the time of year when Hazelnuts are appearing on the trees, and are an early part of the harvest. Hazelnuts are also associated with wisdom and protection. Hazel is often associated in Celtic lore with sacred wells and magical springs containing the salmon of knowledge. This is a good month to do workings related to wisdom and knowledge, dowsing and divination, and dream journeys. If you're a creative type, such as an artist, writer, or musician, this is a good month to get your muse back, and find inspiration for your talents. Even if you normally don't do so, write a poem or song this month.'
<br /><strong>•Magical History & Associations: </strong>The bird associated with this month is the crane, the color is brown, and the gemstone is band-red agate. The Hazel, a masculine herb, is associated with the element of air, the planet of Mercury, the day of Wednesday, and is sacred to Mercury, Thor, Artemis, Fionn, Diana and Lazdona (the Lithuanian Hazelnut Tree Goddess).
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<br />Hazel wood is one of the nine traditional firewoods that is part of the Belfire that the Druid’s burned at Beltane – it was added to the fire to gain wisdom. In fact, in ancient times the Hazel was known as The Tree of Wisdom. It is often associated with sacred springs and wells and salmon. Celtic legend tell of a grove of Hazel trees below which was a well, a pool, where salmon swam. These trees contained all knowledge, and their fruit contained that knowledge and wisdom in a nutshell. As the hazelnuts ripened, they would fall into the well where they were eaten by the salmon. With each nut eaten, the salmon would gain another spot. In order to gain the wisdom of the Hazel, the Druids caught and prepared the salmon. But Fionn, the young man stirring the pot in which the salmon were cooking, accidentally burned his thumb with the boiling stew. By reflex, he put his thumb into his mouth and thus ingested the essence of the sacred feast; he instantly gained the wisdom of the universe
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<br /><strong>.•Magickal usage</strong>: The Hazel has applications in magick done for manifestation, spirit contact, protection, prosperity, wisdom, divination-dowsing, dreams, wisdom-knowledge, marriage, reconciliation, fertility., intelligence, inspiration, and wrath. Hazel is a good herb to use to do magick associated with asking for wisdom and poetic inspiration since the Hazel is known as the Tree of Immortal Wisdom. In England, all the knowledge of the arts and sciences was thought to be bound to the eating of Hazel nuts. Hazel also has protective uses as anti-lightning charms. A sprig of Hazel or a talisman of two Hazel twigs tied together with red or gold thread to make a solar cross can be carried as a protective good luck charm. The mistletoe that grows on hazel protects against bewitching. A cap of Hazel leaves and twigs ensures good luck and safety at sea, and protects against shipwrecks. In England, the Hazelnut is a symbol of fertility – a bag of nuts bestowed upon a bride will ensure a fruitful marriage. The Hazel is a tree that is sacred to the fey Folk. A wand of hazel can be used to call the Fey. If you sleep under a Hazel bush you will have vivid dreams. Hazel can be used for all types of divination and dowsing. Until the seventeenth century, a forked Hazel stick was used to divine the guilt of persons in cases of murder and theft. Druids often made wands from Hazel wood, and used the wands for finding ley lines. Hazel twigs or a forked branch can be used to divine for water or to find buried treasure. The wood of the Hazel can help to divine the pure source of poetry and wisdom.
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<br />Hazelnuts can be used for love divination. Assign the name of your passion to a nut and throw it in the fire while saying:
<br />”A Hazelnut I throw in the flame,
<br />to this nut I give my sweetheart’s name,
<br />If blazes the nut, so may thy passion grow,
<br />For twas my nut that did so brightly glow.”
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<br />If the nut burns brightly you then will know that your love will burn equally as brightly. Hazels are often found at the border between the worlds where magickal things happen, and therefore Hazel wood is excellent to use to make all-purpose wands. Any Hazel twigs, wood or nuts should be gathered after sundown on Samhain since it will be at the peak of its magickal energy. Hazel must not be cut with a knife, but with a flint.
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<br />withttp://dutchie.org/h
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<br /><strong>THE CELTIC TREE ORACLE </strong>
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<br />As well as poetic skill, this Ogham card represents intuition, the power of divination leading straight to the source. Hazel twigs have traditionally always been used for divining because of their pliancy and affinity with water.
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<br /> So the Hazel embodies many talents: Poetry, divination and the powers of mediation. Through the guidance of this card, these talents can also be a channel for creative energies, especially that which allows you to inspire or increase these capacities among others, through your work, interests and pursuits. The Hazel, in fact, allows you to be a catalyst of transformer, working though the promptings of intuition to bring ideas to the surface.
<br />by Liz and Colin Murray
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<br /><strong>LESSON OF Hazel
<br />from The Wisdom of Trees by Jane Gifford </strong>
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<br />The Hazel encourages us to seek out information and inspiration in all things and emphasizes the value of the enquiring mind and of learning of all kinds. Just as the hazel concentrates all its goodness and its continued existence in the kernel of its fruit, so we attain wisdom by reducing knowledge down to its purest form and passing it on down the ages. Through meditating on the essence of wisdom, we gain creative inspiration. Like the limbs of the hazel, we must remain pliant in our approach to learning. Concentrated thought in an open mind can, like the hazel, become a connection with the divine source of all things. The hazel teaches us the noble arts of learning, teaching, communication, and healing.
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<br /><strong>'Ihonor the energy of hazel, the tree of wisdom.
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<br />I will heed my own inner intuitions, and will be wise and informed in my choices.'
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<br />So mote it be.</strong>thegoddesstree.com
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<br />Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-21047884519885521412011-08-12T14:09:00.001-07:002011-08-12T15:14:37.954-07:00Landscape and Memory<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWKb3zw5ORK9Q1JUuueIae3Il4SSS10H6D8nNsaxQ8UcfHYrNp59LzFzr4rA9HqVRGt2aZJnvXza6WF3dWMpn9AeihENs7R0SteNp_qrMLN0BEJVit_ajfGt12-19g0zGdg8Xq2Yg1P9V/s1600/July+and+August+2011+040.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWKb3zw5ORK9Q1JUuueIae3Il4SSS10H6D8nNsaxQ8UcfHYrNp59LzFzr4rA9HqVRGt2aZJnvXza6WF3dWMpn9AeihENs7R0SteNp_qrMLN0BEJVit_ajfGt12-19g0zGdg8Xq2Yg1P9V/s320/July+and+August+2011+040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640096237809721890" /></a>
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<br />It has been three months since I last posted on the blog and Lammas season is upon us with its mellow fruitfulness. This is the time to celebrate the harvest of the first fruits and to give thanks for the blessings we have harvested personally since Summer Solstice. Now is a mellower time of year...the evenings are already starting to draw in, but we can still enjoy the summer while it is with us and make the most of the light for gathering with others outdoors or simply appreciating the blessings Mother Earth has given us.
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<br />Over the past two weekends I have enjoyed some lovely walks and really been aware of the abundance of purple and golden colour in the Cornish landscape from heather and blackberry to gorse and 'whispering jacks'. The sky when not full of cloud or rain has a brittle blue hue.Last weekend I enjoyed blackberrying on the cliffs between Chapel Porth and Porthtowan,as well as walking along the shoreline at lowtide and revisiting a pool from childhood where I had learnt to swim which nestles in the wake of a yawning cave on Porthtowan beach.
<br /> For me a walk is an opportunity to enter slow time:to be transported by landscape and elements into a space rich in inspiration and imaginative potential.I enjoy walking alone as for me the senses are heightened and it is possible to be more in the moment.The stretch of cliff from St Agnes to Porthtowan and beyond is stunning at this time of year; a patchwork quilt of purple. yellow and orange. The bracken is starting to turn copper and one is lulled into contentment by the lazy buzz of bees and song of larks. The landscape on these cliffs is a scarred honeycomb of mine workings, shafts and proud haunting engine houses staring out on an undulating terraine of iron oxide, quartz and copper stone.Heather covers the ugliness of Nineteeth century industrialism with its canopy and the cliffs slope steeply into the ocean beckoning in duck egg blue beyond. These North cliffs are expansive and invite the mind to stretch beyond mundane worries and concerns to a wider perspective. For me this landscape touches me with its vastness..the cliffs paw the shoreline clumsily and adits and caves lurk ominously around every bend. The sand is swept daily by tides and it is easy to get cut off. Nevertheless here is liminal space, my footprints shadow those of gulls on the shoreline and the odd shell and scraggy scalp of brown shiny thong weed mark the places where the tide nudges higher.
<br />Being born and raised in this part of Cornwall means that every walk in this area is a walk into my childhood and teenage years and that I can trace my own shadows lurking here along this tide line. It is as if as I follow the golden thread of silted sand I am also picking my way back into my own past and sniffing out a memory lying beneath the cliffs.
<br />The memory for me on Saturday was jolted into being by the corner of a second world war cement wall and the echoing of laughter and a hollow splash ...I followed the trail of awoken sense and clambered up barnacled rocks to look down into a pool of shady petrol blue half hidden in the cliffs. Here was the swimming pool of my early childhood: my minds eye flashed bathing caps and black full piece swim suits, a child's blue duck rubber ring, my grandpa in his wet shiny trunks holding me up in
<br />strong tanned arms so I could float and learn to swim...barnacles sizzled, salt water stung, my skin tingled with sunshine and heat and was immersed in cool, lapping water
<br />Here was that moment Wordsworth calls a 'flash upon the inward eye'.....slow time....the wonder that comes upon us when we are transported in a moment to another moment and another.......so we can hold infinity in an hour.
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<br />Lamma blessings xxPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-12493373441674284182011-05-05T23:59:00.000-07:002011-05-06T01:40:18.112-07:00Beltane, Holy Wells and Bluebells<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEmSbcUUknavOvoAQYbokXEGLOs7yIOuyXsCHj7HB8-cNlAAS7emwFbDegHNNzFPHWhBNldlyEQ5EZSPqEXCqIjsobFQBiHuzqmu-JLzDxdQr4pE5YLzXi_DPgEPg3s1B02JEtJ90OxRr/s1600/April2011+187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEmSbcUUknavOvoAQYbokXEGLOs7yIOuyXsCHj7HB8-cNlAAS7emwFbDegHNNzFPHWhBNldlyEQ5EZSPqEXCqIjsobFQBiHuzqmu-JLzDxdQr4pE5YLzXi_DPgEPg3s1B02JEtJ90OxRr/s320/April2011+187.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603519931379584338" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfG4VX5NS-2OV-UI9ftLagLpDcEen72hSZu4EFkDekN5IPM-mZxcTwPNBWK39v0WMirgCXij_MCOJgBoJ5CePliptXDaSUmmkewK-S2WiH_d2Je9rCRGHr1c83mH0HnCUB8Z2kKB8bxhei/s1600/April2011+234.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfG4VX5NS-2OV-UI9ftLagLpDcEen72hSZu4EFkDekN5IPM-mZxcTwPNBWK39v0WMirgCXij_MCOJgBoJ5CePliptXDaSUmmkewK-S2WiH_d2Je9rCRGHr1c83mH0HnCUB8Z2kKB8bxhei/s320/April2011+234.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603519230706206402" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxug0bZrzti-wZHHCqOTeeb3s_TXUW2kSIzumW5mUfuiXeqTAPeNbs1-EgWoeaNd9K5fTqXiGs9zb9UJim7sgEseJ643ir-aJ7t8mZz81K5gXBC3Km5a4eMyRb0-n3gPGNxjvj5S6WRCW/s1600/April2011+228.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxug0bZrzti-wZHHCqOTeeb3s_TXUW2kSIzumW5mUfuiXeqTAPeNbs1-EgWoeaNd9K5fTqXiGs9zb9UJim7sgEseJ643ir-aJ7t8mZz81K5gXBC3Km5a4eMyRb0-n3gPGNxjvj5S6WRCW/s320/April2011+228.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603518706331918242" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZnT1JpMDKt6yBKn7OGDkWdo6rcm4IMMR5P-I9NJWtO9FS0nK02bAjkq-lMuVFlcNGmeN-fjXZVFwxPcV_y-TN2oRjE_yt-7Z4xe45pluZOY3SqLQu4N7yMQ8ItF7YN_4unwjPTC1npdx/s1600/April2011+204.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZnT1JpMDKt6yBKn7OGDkWdo6rcm4IMMR5P-I9NJWtO9FS0nK02bAjkq-lMuVFlcNGmeN-fjXZVFwxPcV_y-TN2oRjE_yt-7Z4xe45pluZOY3SqLQu4N7yMQ8ItF7YN_4unwjPTC1npdx/s320/April2011+204.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603518209328412962" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkBiNOQI2S95VPe-D_kmPkXSoco5dxPQ8LKb9f9WPDO5Vq5g2e-amr65DtQ5aq0B0LqWoODT3kqRhq_uixGNSJm_oqt6Ed9DgLfwf5wVLMOccLnQqJ7454zotBxWYPPHCoJo52J53BxJr/s1600/April2011+185.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkBiNOQI2S95VPe-D_kmPkXSoco5dxPQ8LKb9f9WPDO5Vq5g2e-amr65DtQ5aq0B0LqWoODT3kqRhq_uixGNSJm_oqt6Ed9DgLfwf5wVLMOccLnQqJ7454zotBxWYPPHCoJo52J53BxJr/s320/April2011+185.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603513927321179458" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxeHDGrIgyAO_VqZl5TSC5IK0rFfgd_U5LlHwLPR3f1B1ev0-LDLVQbA_mjMY163hHZOcI_yQflymB7jHPORqvu7uTZpgEUwKJ6CdWyIkLk6gOdLPtEiRvDiijVzflR2eLlHs0qxhUZUf/s1600/April2011+188.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxeHDGrIgyAO_VqZl5TSC5IK0rFfgd_U5LlHwLPR3f1B1ev0-LDLVQbA_mjMY163hHZOcI_yQflymB7jHPORqvu7uTZpgEUwKJ6CdWyIkLk6gOdLPtEiRvDiijVzflR2eLlHs0qxhUZUf/s320/April2011+188.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603513922395717074" /></a><br /><br />Well,well well....... it's that wonderful time of year again when the hedgerows are a feast of greenery and the woods and meadows shimmer with a sea of hazy mauve. The last few weeks leading up to Beltane have been really hot and sunny ironically the minute Beltane was upon us all that changed and we were blessed with wind and rain. My vegetables are flourishing as a result in my back patio which I have had fenced for shelter and I am growing as much as I can in pots and green recyclable potatoe bags which cost £1 each and are a gift, as not only are they much lighter than pots but they are really more versatile and hold a lot of soil.i have potaotes, runner beans, lettuce, rocket, tomatoe plants, strawberries,chard and herbs all starting to really shoot away.<br /><br />I have been fortunate to have some much needed time off work to relax and unwind and have spent my time quite happily walking the parts of the Cornish coast I haven't visited for a while and reaquainting myself with some magicl sites like the Holy Well at St Just in Roseland church. This time of year is definitely my favourite as it heralds a flourish of growth and activity with the evenings drawing out and a sense of long summer days waiting on that orange red horizon. Sacred sites seem particularly potent and lush with flowers adding a faery quality and otherworldliness that transports one from one's daily grind to the timeless tranquility and restorative power of another plane. <br /><br />I was partcularly stuck by this at the little creek near St Just in Rosleand church with its stillness and secluded peace. It maybe the most attractive and visited churchyard in Cornwall due to its tranquil and slightly exotic air. It is situated opposite Mylor and the Carrick Roads and the church is right at the bottom of a steep valley hill nestled in trees beside the gently lapping waves of the creek. The Holy Well is situated just outside the churchyard, through the lych gate and along a little path which leads into a mossy, ferny dell. The well water is clear and the spot safely shaded from view so that one is touched deeply by the sound of water and the faery magic of the place.The Goddess defintely dwells here in this moist and fertile shade<br /><br />It seems to me that Holy Wells have a liminal quality where the worlds of nature and spirit touch and unite. One looks into the mirroring depths of the well water and is reflected. One dips one's fingers and cups one's palms in an act of healing and baptism. Wells are a place of purification and a way of touching an age old magic and ritual. They are places of healing and pre-date any surrounding buildings. Water is our source of life, vitality and renewel.<br /><br />It seems fitting to me that this well was the beginning of a long 7 mile walk and that I visited two churches that of St Just and St Mawes, as well as St Mawes Castle,isolated beaches, tide carved creeks and flourishing paths full of campion, wild garlic, Herb Robert, cow parsely and of course the bowing heads of bluebells. The woodland at Bosworgas was a faery dell with the stream running through to the creek full of dappled shade and what looked like ancient earth works. This was a forgotten part of the estuary and I walked peacefully without seeing a soul apart from rabbits playing and a fox who whisked behind me and romped joyfully through the depths. The walk finally took me back inland and out to the National Trust field path that lends stunning almost ariel view of the Carrick Roads.The sun shone brightly and the skies were a china blue with the sails of yachts scudding down river to open sea.<br /><br />I finished back at the church where the rooks continued cawing and nestbuilding making black fans in the skies to refect those of the sails at sea.<br /><br />This place definitely speaks to the heart and soul. It is a wonderful feeling to take a day's pilgrimage out of the toxic noise of everyday. The King Harry Ferry will do just this..transport you to another time and space....give you time to pause in slow time. I couldn't believe it when I realised that this is only half an hour from my front door and that I had gone a distance of only 30 miles as a round trip taking in Portscatho Harbour and village too. <br /><br />Beltane is definitely a time to celebrate Nature's fertility and the life force filling every shoot and tree.The Goddess is dancing and laughing rejoicing in all this beauty and growth. We can find her in the meadows and the fields, the woods and streams. The Holy Wells resonate with that same sap that life energy and it for us to drink in the beauty and celebrate it with song, dance, pilgrimage and healing. 'Sumer is icumen in' the obby oss dances and the Maypole reminds us of that regenerative, potent magical wand of fertility and echoes the blossoming trees. The Goddess Flora is abroad and everywhere there is a reason to celebrate the joy of being. At this potent time in the Wheel contemplate what areas in your life have grown from the seeds of hope you planted and consider whether these are still the areas you wish to grow in. If they are then continue to nurture and water these; if not then there is still time to sow new seeds or weed out anything unwanted. take a walk into Nature, make a fire for Beltane and celebrate the strenghtening light, enjoy the fertility that will come to a climax in 8 weeks at Midsummer Solstice.<br /><br />Blessed Be xxxxxPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-30012388651831050792011-04-02T05:25:00.000-07:002011-04-02T05:41:41.056-07:00Walk Lizard Head March 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcxciyGNAObWjxWdkn9SRrzhMq4v1zIEwG7OiipuSbbfmBGtkGTHSK78daGYg06HhyPo1qgoa12BgQqYjBrCSOyq4PA9EAmbZa8-_n6L4NunoMQ7qsYp8l2YSQuuzyKWs-EkUIiN0BBm7Y/s1600/Lizard+March+2011+%252810%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcxciyGNAObWjxWdkn9SRrzhMq4v1zIEwG7OiipuSbbfmBGtkGTHSK78daGYg06HhyPo1qgoa12BgQqYjBrCSOyq4PA9EAmbZa8-_n6L4NunoMQ7qsYp8l2YSQuuzyKWs-EkUIiN0BBm7Y/s320/Lizard+March+2011+%252810%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590964776015279058" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_KbniWSqWTqSYJ2OjtddiuM74NvwZbUD6FGWs7azXYO0Qf9wFD2DvNq611Zid8UAQ-IKsXhZjJnQk_7UCJxBuA1M2WCnKg7Y3dp8D4Mjk2rBN_gEmeOGmq0ZpHwcCXU91Mt5C_By0RwHD/s1600/Lizard+March+2011+%25287%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_KbniWSqWTqSYJ2OjtddiuM74NvwZbUD6FGWs7azXYO0Qf9wFD2DvNq611Zid8UAQ-IKsXhZjJnQk_7UCJxBuA1M2WCnKg7Y3dp8D4Mjk2rBN_gEmeOGmq0ZpHwcCXU91Mt5C_By0RwHD/s320/Lizard+March+2011+%25287%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590964773056573778" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMv9-Hbx8IpNNY_gBAI1AdseIFYepMQ7P9OV2Y8Dj7BSWr4TnFutUTE58qYqM_jS0rIHnUh6kuuE8gyaerIyAYqxXKdyLNuNHwY5tsTE6HXp3IwJYxFqdU-2zMZSV4Wr_p6_Aw53gsbqVe/s1600/Lizard+March+2011+%25289%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMv9-Hbx8IpNNY_gBAI1AdseIFYepMQ7P9OV2Y8Dj7BSWr4TnFutUTE58qYqM_jS0rIHnUh6kuuE8gyaerIyAYqxXKdyLNuNHwY5tsTE6HXp3IwJYxFqdU-2zMZSV4Wr_p6_Aw53gsbqVe/s320/Lizard+March+2011+%25289%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590964762938569970" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-YUG7VOCZtl28Dl-Yejdv70sn291Bgdo8JNxsNBngEQk5bS2WF6hOpFzLFw0_nPy-is_e5Q5KUpCgOvYqmfs4062yZE-YwzWUD7W902T5UKXMjX7h0RL70eqQ7q55O9B8Rw32csx4F8T/s1600/Lizard+March+2011+%25286%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-YUG7VOCZtl28Dl-Yejdv70sn291Bgdo8JNxsNBngEQk5bS2WF6hOpFzLFw0_nPy-is_e5Q5KUpCgOvYqmfs4062yZE-YwzWUD7W902T5UKXMjX7h0RL70eqQ7q55O9B8Rw32csx4F8T/s320/Lizard+March+2011+%25286%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590964759260639138" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilNogDYp2jfQNWqa8gQSsQmJhfZsIucMf02lTevIsjwuyYd5n13JGqe_aa2KVWb2bMqEqu4i-n0QkmlhNrnarqzlptMGpaQpoSVx4KMb4AR3_C-vSzckmwET42k8OEjrkX7pdo96nwMaCq/s1600/Lizard+March+2011+%25285%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilNogDYp2jfQNWqa8gQSsQmJhfZsIucMf02lTevIsjwuyYd5n13JGqe_aa2KVWb2bMqEqu4i-n0QkmlhNrnarqzlptMGpaQpoSVx4KMb4AR3_C-vSzckmwET42k8OEjrkX7pdo96nwMaCq/s320/Lizard+March+2011+%25285%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590964755140633906" /></a><br />Last weekend, I walked with two good friends towards Lizard Head from Lizard Village. It was a sunny afternoon despite a wyrd sea mist inland.The Lizard is one of the prettiest spots in Cornwall and the sister headland to Landsend which I had walked 2 weeks before. There were fabulous views out to sea and along the coast as well as Sheltand ponies grazing and a seal in the cove beneath the Lighthouse. Ice plants were already starting to glow pink and yellow another sign of hope and the light shimmered over the Manacles where so many ships were wrecked.Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-22927932151719253702011-04-02T05:02:00.001-07:002011-04-02T05:24:29.561-07:00Sennen Antiquities<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8P2PeRAvZVckyjid_IVkKwsXs71u0DL5F_hl3Q2yXiD4R8gO1_CJWPxM1kmCDfDRw-NNi31jpEex8zKzIOYZXSxt0sI-ryTYkELPk_OB7QWIe7H8UdxzsYwjheZb2fNYyb1xqniHcdQ6m/s1600/Portal+Maen+Cliff+Castle+Landsend.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8P2PeRAvZVckyjid_IVkKwsXs71u0DL5F_hl3Q2yXiD4R8gO1_CJWPxM1kmCDfDRw-NNi31jpEex8zKzIOYZXSxt0sI-ryTYkELPk_OB7QWIe7H8UdxzsYwjheZb2fNYyb1xqniHcdQ6m/s320/Portal+Maen+Cliff+Castle+Landsend.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590960851034534706" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnh00WRfPfZY4O4XvUQQiGC0OS0lvnbRtTGmj8fkdO9cm1hLHQw7qVwJaIY08FDEYgSQnn-44RptcAZwvptmql-9TXFgx-keJQ0XemQapHHN2vmdlqGFEyFe5yqiaiAbUjbti13uZ7xPY/s1600/Daffodils+Sennen+Church.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnh00WRfPfZY4O4XvUQQiGC0OS0lvnbRtTGmj8fkdO9cm1hLHQw7qVwJaIY08FDEYgSQnn-44RptcAZwvptmql-9TXFgx-keJQ0XemQapHHN2vmdlqGFEyFe5yqiaiAbUjbti13uZ7xPY/s320/Daffodils+Sennen+Church.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590960845172363954" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXosNiMsTsp2QfVQmAY6x-8UmSa67MU0une18kAeaxikHQrZZ8f9g6ZOSW34t4X372csrSYppM-QRP-Vhyphenhyphen3jGmobZokO-AwrgSWkYHGZI6AWvg88DE-kuJ9Fgp2tEmJ2aGL_vX6XbstRPk/s1600/Cross+Sennen.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXosNiMsTsp2QfVQmAY6x-8UmSa67MU0une18kAeaxikHQrZZ8f9g6ZOSW34t4X372csrSYppM-QRP-Vhyphenhyphen3jGmobZokO-AwrgSWkYHGZI6AWvg88DE-kuJ9Fgp2tEmJ2aGL_vX6XbstRPk/s320/Cross+Sennen.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590960840794282178" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRrja4fCDMA_dV4O-b7n-F3j2bj7qrEOR2d-wEtNJijhE1IqYROJ3M37bowsaqxu7CA8Pr1ghk9BhQSN_uRCFO3X3SoMeTR8-6aYexVBPTYvBailrgrO3qHR19NfUyT8rF8-cQ8ChWHHig/s1600/Cornish+cross+Sennen+Church.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRrja4fCDMA_dV4O-b7n-F3j2bj7qrEOR2d-wEtNJijhE1IqYROJ3M37bowsaqxu7CA8Pr1ghk9BhQSN_uRCFO3X3SoMeTR8-6aYexVBPTYvBailrgrO3qHR19NfUyT8rF8-cQ8ChWHHig/s320/Cornish+cross+Sennen+Church.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590960838974930322" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkZBuPi-E5KYSVxsB26TA6-Ru6B20ksYBZ9hsXSrq3JFtkCFIy14n3hrfh1c4DM9QVKznXf2Cs5PFOWaLfKn4CEEsu2W8oppuFA1_4dIKcTKaBP8TyopSBrmxuXzvZrEZyfnAbTsXcWeM/s1600/Sennen+Church.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkZBuPi-E5KYSVxsB26TA6-Ru6B20ksYBZ9hsXSrq3JFtkCFIy14n3hrfh1c4DM9QVKznXf2Cs5PFOWaLfKn4CEEsu2W8oppuFA1_4dIKcTKaBP8TyopSBrmxuXzvZrEZyfnAbTsXcWeM/s320/Sennen+Church.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590960831835839858" /></a><br />Whilst on the walk we passed through Maen Cliff Castle with its granite gateway and stunning views over the cliffs and land. Then through Sennen Church town with its 2 Cornish Crosses and Church.Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-61729003246608717752011-04-02T04:51:00.000-07:002011-04-02T05:01:31.434-07:00March Walks- Sennen to Landsend<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpvHs5drV1ZmaWBGC8CpmNgXGtyfi_M_QxClgl5Qr1Y0numcq9BnVgB0pZkwa2DnUEqiSKr4hwsknIjNsMIgObIRR6Ld9FNIyArGZQGHoYDqJUjSckOap9Ktk8s4AJXGnJE1XR-LqxrQq/s1600/Maen+Landsend.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpvHs5drV1ZmaWBGC8CpmNgXGtyfi_M_QxClgl5Qr1Y0numcq9BnVgB0pZkwa2DnUEqiSKr4hwsknIjNsMIgObIRR6Ld9FNIyArGZQGHoYDqJUjSckOap9Ktk8s4AJXGnJE1XR-LqxrQq/s320/Maen+Landsend.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590954569936345970" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkT1JX-vvt3-Zonmw0koBgVxZ-2fWjZ6F0Vg4aqZG2x6IZstiguwDBixqc9aCNZpKa78k6NVxI3VBITee7DXh_U6FMr203-zpr3hlb3zWCKcdh-c-W6Bnn30ikzDpSWMofYeSwjX10a4Sj/s1600/Magical+light+Landsend.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkT1JX-vvt3-Zonmw0koBgVxZ-2fWjZ6F0Vg4aqZG2x6IZstiguwDBixqc9aCNZpKa78k6NVxI3VBITee7DXh_U6FMr203-zpr3hlb3zWCKcdh-c-W6Bnn30ikzDpSWMofYeSwjX10a4Sj/s320/Magical+light+Landsend.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590954568846173506" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmLruXfohpFKa5TkkXCEORtdaI29lAswbK838A9ryGsIdeOhgVRXFFM8g-y9oj4-oIqxy13Klanp339L5b-XXM34dKZtto5pw4_DXGOSqRLm_vI1dIAcoWbZVZ8zh9JOy4O5i-cp7vnux/s1600/Gorse+Landsend+Cliffs.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmLruXfohpFKa5TkkXCEORtdaI29lAswbK838A9ryGsIdeOhgVRXFFM8g-y9oj4-oIqxy13Klanp339L5b-XXM34dKZtto5pw4_DXGOSqRLm_vI1dIAcoWbZVZ8zh9JOy4O5i-cp7vnux/s320/Gorse+Landsend+Cliffs.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590954563940741874" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfiQkNNJ2pNj7LCjZUduEBZen5L5_LWLq7eRkZk84dXPWB2KKFnXpE6iE4pys8xphNoeXbzjFLoTtz1u_QRx4V9mKCdVchaE0SNAfYlZfL50cTGNRamMmYU4TlQgDgjHbIt34s5lqKGsF/s1600/Classic+Landsend.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfiQkNNJ2pNj7LCjZUduEBZen5L5_LWLq7eRkZk84dXPWB2KKFnXpE6iE4pys8xphNoeXbzjFLoTtz1u_QRx4V9mKCdVchaE0SNAfYlZfL50cTGNRamMmYU4TlQgDgjHbIt34s5lqKGsF/s320/Classic+Landsend.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590954558718777634" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuLlxNr8OqCU_hEy5zxozPFq3E_wkhV_3QDEMZRrG9O2d3PJ1UGX0vhtjj9GaZpRodujKNzjval4IpIkHPhihhTDn9bajl-FwWdbwBWg4PAgL_uZUcE-b9ao9DY4H50NpP3NxReX3ceT3/s1600/Bird+rock+Landsend.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuLlxNr8OqCU_hEy5zxozPFq3E_wkhV_3QDEMZRrG9O2d3PJ1UGX0vhtjj9GaZpRodujKNzjval4IpIkHPhihhTDn9bajl-FwWdbwBWg4PAgL_uZUcE-b9ao9DY4H50NpP3NxReX3ceT3/s320/Bird+rock+Landsend.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590954555765415266" /></a><br />Thought I would post some inspiring pics of Cornwall at the beginning of Spring...sites and seascapes. The weather has been so sunny and warm and it's been wonderful to feel a sense of awakening. The sea has been dancing and shimmering with light and the clarity of the air and horizon has really breathed into my soul with a new sense of joy and anticipation of warmer days to enjoy.....<br /><br />Hope you like these and feel the urge to get out there and explore or just enjoy the view!<br /><br />Blessings xxxPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-60811047490972889882011-03-29T13:38:00.001-07:002011-03-29T14:29:21.076-07:00Spring Equinox - Forest Schools- Nature's Education<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYz3FzfjAY2XY21dG4k3acOAJM24OA3fCQnvuX4U6UXbshaVd2ae1PsCwECyr5qs4e0Qie0usodidHXuudkz8GbN3Kuis37veqlCq2Mn2ZQmT1OqQQz2DsE3kzO_Mjtu7uNGfZuLywnPAp/s1600/Primrose+Giant+March+09.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYz3FzfjAY2XY21dG4k3acOAJM24OA3fCQnvuX4U6UXbshaVd2ae1PsCwECyr5qs4e0Qie0usodidHXuudkz8GbN3Kuis37veqlCq2Mn2ZQmT1OqQQz2DsE3kzO_Mjtu7uNGfZuLywnPAp/s320/Primrose+Giant+March+09.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589616988971065138" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4wSK72rZGwMr8815ld4i4XL-oFLgIzWcIbTg7fzb3cT6pVoI_myNMSHfvcc6711zJJcNBohHhIVV_mt3XFGbXfvj8vUEGHf2DeX_ozokpV99cXhT0SiWaBtB7fQR3-HwivX9EZoV94DY/s1600/Sleeping+Goddess+March+09.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4wSK72rZGwMr8815ld4i4XL-oFLgIzWcIbTg7fzb3cT6pVoI_myNMSHfvcc6711zJJcNBohHhIVV_mt3XFGbXfvj8vUEGHf2DeX_ozokpV99cXhT0SiWaBtB7fQR3-HwivX9EZoV94DY/s320/Sleeping+Goddess+March+09.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589616981325975666" /></a><br />I have been thinking about this time of equinox and it's theme of balance and outer growth...it's time to reach outwards and begin the process of growth which will reach fruition at harvest. I have been enjoying the beautiful warm Spring sunshine and the mellow warmth of the air. How good it feels to walk the woodland paths lined with clusters of daffodils and primroses, to hear the call of birdsong and to look up through newly budding boughs at clear blue skies. Nature is such a tonic for the senses and the mind. It is the best cure for anxiety and depression I know and has the greatest potential for inspiration and creativity.<br /><br /> My own growth since Imbolc has been surprising and unexpectedly rich this year in terms of placing strong roots in the world outside. I have been asked to become Community Relations Director for 'Catch A Wave Uk'...a social enterprise which unites water sports, outdoor activities and holistic therapies and aims to improve health and wellbeing for all, especially those who are more vulnerable, have suffered health issues or need the confidence to try surfing in a more holistic and supportive environment.We also arrange beach cleans, foraging and workshops. Check out the website!<br /><br />My other new venture is that I have enrolled on a Forest School Practitioner course which so I can put together my teaching skills and my love of nature to work more creatively in nature with groups. I've been so inspired by Richard Louv's 'Last Child in the Woods' and the back to nature movement as a panacea for the stress,poor health and loss of imagination and sensory awareness of the media and computer age.I really want to take this further in the work I do and help bring disadvantaged groups back into relationship with nature and each other.<br /><br />Forest Schools were launched in Scandanavia in the 1950's and are the basis of all their early years foundation education....'kinder gartens' up to 7yrs-the child is viewed as a young and tender plant who needs to be carefully nurtured and rooted in a natural environment to grow healthy and confident.Education in natural settings where children were less resticted by space and time; and immersion in play and creativity has been proven to produce more creative, confident, aware, happier and more adaptable children. A 13 month long study carried out in Sweden on children from similar backgrounds found that children attending forest school kindergartens in the countryside environment were far happier than children in kindergartens located in the urban environment. The study concluded that children in the forest school were more balanced with greater socially capability, had fewer days off sick; were more able to concentrate and had better co-ordination than the city kindergarten children. <br /><br />The movement took off in Britain in the 1990's after early years professionals and nursery nurses from Bridgewater in Somerset visited Denmark to see the effect for themselves. Denmark and the UK have a similar climate and so it seemed natural to set up Forest Schools and Forest School education in the UK.<br /><br />Since its introduction Forest Schools has developed opportunities in an outdoor setting for children and adults of all ages to develop a variety of life skills: altruism, independence, self awareness and social communication skills, all of which assist individuals to grow in self-esteem and confidence. <br />Participants gain confidence in their own ability. Kinaesthetic learners [learning by doing] are particularly suited to learning in this woodland outdoor environment.Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-85475494531708956582011-02-25T09:45:00.000-08:002011-02-25T11:01:28.804-08:00Carn Euny Fogou and Chapel Euny Holy Well<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKFqdWrlV-lm-9MwBl6HA7o-N4GaIko7dKyPb6lrE9q28DrR1-tE4cTIauKcvJUAIActNLjyizZhkY7DZiy6BHNK5dIUHM_uJFlbavPJW1JcrMoOfQGgbBY8SzgACYVeF5dp_WViUkSGC/s1600/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+041.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKFqdWrlV-lm-9MwBl6HA7o-N4GaIko7dKyPb6lrE9q28DrR1-tE4cTIauKcvJUAIActNLjyizZhkY7DZiy6BHNK5dIUHM_uJFlbavPJW1JcrMoOfQGgbBY8SzgACYVeF5dp_WViUkSGC/s320/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+041.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577704248282583778" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3IE19P9FHWCFWd5I_0Hm4R2dV_dVRFrEWpUDfk6bHw4elTNBwVISreCtiLbQsbk0tWZHQ-h2CyPiiL9uc2ekwWawsAjIRAoCo9HN9Gqv35ZqTMzE7WSGMpfVTHLrem2qkd36xeyWzwtO3/s1600/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+037.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3IE19P9FHWCFWd5I_0Hm4R2dV_dVRFrEWpUDfk6bHw4elTNBwVISreCtiLbQsbk0tWZHQ-h2CyPiiL9uc2ekwWawsAjIRAoCo9HN9Gqv35ZqTMzE7WSGMpfVTHLrem2qkd36xeyWzwtO3/s320/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+037.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577704243394941602" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2aoc1HwUNbOcpESXAdC2L4Nim56F0SXdYSGbtO52V6J4c8ptwqYsSObaEpIisw_IqJLsMXZgqc37b-NwsJ4UHFEaf1TxiTNVqovEuJ1KWpmUaOD1ZcjGjrtLpe2q2c_8D_JJlul9rtwIM/s1600/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+061.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2aoc1HwUNbOcpESXAdC2L4Nim56F0SXdYSGbtO52V6J4c8ptwqYsSObaEpIisw_IqJLsMXZgqc37b-NwsJ4UHFEaf1TxiTNVqovEuJ1KWpmUaOD1ZcjGjrtLpe2q2c_8D_JJlul9rtwIM/s320/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+061.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577704240131056114" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiWAy834CfxMDArfVKbj3P_PV6WQXsgOxedtnr8Z4kDHGlKaa0PRwq2W6bVP8fDJnHZKjiB_Uq8U9rNPapBK432eRDn7qKPpKb8rqUQo8Y0m1P4aN_c188EnpAEGHJYlRih6V1B9Sf7D_n/s1600/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+050.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiWAy834CfxMDArfVKbj3P_PV6WQXsgOxedtnr8Z4kDHGlKaa0PRwq2W6bVP8fDJnHZKjiB_Uq8U9rNPapBK432eRDn7qKPpKb8rqUQo8Y0m1P4aN_c188EnpAEGHJYlRih6V1B9Sf7D_n/s320/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+050.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577704236327149186" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlY-3esn-xl-nNhSEY_GvWvRBtzovQIDAns4Z5YqCZlvbBDxHjwPijZ5FffodnrjGYPXIriskLOoRTrs4lp5GTF8jb37kZ4EJ0j2VT6LhsRoR5orz4LKAUrCnoLWUKzFCTwIxMVeXHepB/s1600/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+047.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlY-3esn-xl-nNhSEY_GvWvRBtzovQIDAns4Z5YqCZlvbBDxHjwPijZ5FffodnrjGYPXIriskLOoRTrs4lp5GTF8jb37kZ4EJ0j2VT6LhsRoR5orz4LKAUrCnoLWUKzFCTwIxMVeXHepB/s320/Gwithian+and+Carn+Euny++Feb+2011+047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577704231244191122" /></a><br />Last Sunday, my nephew and I visited Carn Euny Fogou and ancient Ironage village settlement. It was a grey, foggy day and the normally clear views from village to ocean and Scilly beyond were veiled in mist, yet one can still appreciate the defensive position of the village nestled protectively in the lee of Caer Bran Hill fort, commanding a panoramic view of the surrounding landscape and coast on the ley of the ancient trackway that once led from Lands End to St Michael's mount. Carn Euny's secret is its Fogou; an underground passageway complete with a 'creep' and 'beehive' hut. The fogou offered welcome retreat from the now steadily falling rain as we entered its depths- an experience as close to entering the womb of the Earth Mother as I can imagine and one which powerfully affects one's psyche. The passageway was particularly dank and flooded half way with muddy water. The massive granite roofing slabs overhead and green walls are a powerful presence and the floor slopes downwards so it is literally like walking into the underworld.<br /><br />The beehive hut attached by a small entrance to the passageway is dated earlier than the fogou and is approximately a few decades to several centuries older poss 500BC. The fogou itself is believed to date from before 380BC-250BC - when charcoal found under the floor of the North eastern end of the passageway was carbondated it fixed a date for use if not construction. My nephew and I pondered on the use of the fogou and hut: possibilities are a grain store, a place to shelter from attack or a ritual space. Sitting there in the dark and muffled space we could not imagine any grain stored here would survive storage in this damp; as for a place of refuge, once discovered you would find it difficult to survive any attack and there was the possibility that you could easily be trapped down there. We both sensed a ceremonial purpose..the curving entrance down into the dark so like the entrance to the womb and the muffled hushed space ideal for gatherings of a ritual and mysterious nature.One can imagine circles of people crouched in the dark of the beehive hut and torches lighting the passageway as well as the sun returning to light the chambers and fill the dark with light at key points in the wheel.Ian Cooke a local artist and historian discovered that the tunnel was directly alligned to the Midsummer Solstice. <br /><br />We shall never know for sure and that is the gift of this place that is does not offer up its secrets readily. All we could do was ponder and that pause was significant enough.I had taken my nephew away from his computer games and Facebook to this ancient village, this elemental place softened by mud, mist and mystery and there he was pondering on his ancestors and finding space to be alone with the soul of the land.He left eager for more, vitalised and energetic, his cheeks ruddy and his boots wet with rain and mud. He stopped by the ruins of the dilapidated granite cottage on the site and started imagining picnics he could enjoy here with his family when the sun shone....ancient memories of tribal family gatherings....the spot is perfect for a picnic on a warm summer's day with the sun melting beneath teh Atlantic waves on a sparkling sea......from darkness to light and from ancient mystery to acts of imagination...Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-58700744939208884942011-02-01T12:06:00.000-08:002011-02-01T12:55:36.284-08:00Images and invocation for Brigid, Bride,Brighid, Brigit<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79jU-cdwzFBfUEYSheZfjWfUTLic5d52uAsQBo7I16V4EpEYzfvKO-M0-rBc3zrtFZyjodKlKwdLdMGqsUpWO7CZXKlDHaLyTv3EnjNOaHYwnNTss0wT9KDW24G3kPosTwwKtnGVnypzI/s1600/imagesCAMA7KTD.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79jU-cdwzFBfUEYSheZfjWfUTLic5d52uAsQBo7I16V4EpEYzfvKO-M0-rBc3zrtFZyjodKlKwdLdMGqsUpWO7CZXKlDHaLyTv3EnjNOaHYwnNTss0wT9KDW24G3kPosTwwKtnGVnypzI/s200/imagesCAMA7KTD.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568818008564894162" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytOG7reDxD50VIyhkl1d2MbO_pPA7KMwXMA07Jza1EAbs2iAjOg73vrjj6QXTNPCAZqvA7uYPyUdMjrkMcKX95rcrEZ4fRBDj3Zves1PAQ24m7H0p6NGakuqUOHo8-EJoH8CL0tRDfang/s1600/brigit-209x300%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 139px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytOG7reDxD50VIyhkl1d2MbO_pPA7KMwXMA07Jza1EAbs2iAjOg73vrjj6QXTNPCAZqvA7uYPyUdMjrkMcKX95rcrEZ4fRBDj3Zves1PAQ24m7H0p6NGakuqUOHo8-EJoH8CL0tRDfang/s200/brigit-209x300%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568817900164814482" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswpeIFB5Qq-weay9nFcV6LvQL2oAv9ur85skWKlj_oamvP4Xus1bTXD6VDLQGFwb8WYmy8LRkRQXr5fsDoJ1Tw7TkyUL6Wsfn2JUaSimzN270v9GWabWhQTqQahwP_vH92_s6kQcYmn_T/s1600/Brigid+-+Copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswpeIFB5Qq-weay9nFcV6LvQL2oAv9ur85skWKlj_oamvP4Xus1bTXD6VDLQGFwb8WYmy8LRkRQXr5fsDoJ1Tw7TkyUL6Wsfn2JUaSimzN270v9GWabWhQTqQahwP_vH92_s6kQcYmn_T/s200/Brigid+-+Copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568817796356254802" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Poem for Brigid</strong><br /><br />Hail and welcome Brigid<br />Goddess of the North East<br />Come Bride<br />Bless this hearth<br />With life and light<br />With milk and mead<br />With the flame of poetry<br />Forged in craft and fire<br />And the soft white light of healing<br />As the crone washes in the sparkling well<br />And is reborn anew<br />Welcome Brigid<br />Bride of Spring<br />As you emerge pale and fragile<br />From dark winter's loam <br />And sing to us in a quiver of bare branches<br />And a shiver of sun<br />Fingering your way between snow clouds and rain<br />Floating on icy tides <br />Lady of Swans<br />Your breath soft as down<br />Whispers <br />Flickers<br />Inspires<br />DesiresPaganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8395504521720280459.post-56523304931609574172011-01-28T04:55:00.000-08:002011-01-28T05:02:02.012-08:00Snowdrops at St Loy, near Lamorna, West Penwith<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimm471NIwjWjWjtZit-FoDvZdsG4cjIqu_0xiiBibs5ig4DqiqyK-5tKau8yRij97-8TqMGP8q01gF-U-7WZCMyqpw4TkzghNk8dHXnG7t6fiD7TpxR6oHZOYy9cuAgaOHy3TzJibnv03R/s1600/St+Loy+Feb+20010+004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimm471NIwjWjWjtZit-FoDvZdsG4cjIqu_0xiiBibs5ig4DqiqyK-5tKau8yRij97-8TqMGP8q01gF-U-7WZCMyqpw4TkzghNk8dHXnG7t6fiD7TpxR6oHZOYy9cuAgaOHy3TzJibnv03R/s200/St+Loy+Feb+20010+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567221024383051858" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJCcqwEyAsQt9zv62VvjEBjiHGJ8aYdvY3P16ZTIju6xnQrt2j-wgCOeFJCqAbfI5y508CbJQ5kjV5whx6tEA6N7AXqF5ciKEGqkChc5teWiD-Xau72By6Xga798A7ZGTBTJuqIn6SFHH/s1600/St+Loy+Feb+20010+005.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJCcqwEyAsQt9zv62VvjEBjiHGJ8aYdvY3P16ZTIju6xnQrt2j-wgCOeFJCqAbfI5y508CbJQ5kjV5whx6tEA6N7AXqF5ciKEGqkChc5teWiD-Xau72By6Xga798A7ZGTBTJuqIn6SFHH/s200/St+Loy+Feb+20010+005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567220758685735666" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit84zU18bRm4dosNGw5OU55FXBxd4ihFYgiuzoZtaZ-Lvsij4wFDpZZxGfBjdCJBPN71Yf1e2KUuFzD9E8EGKURMebj1hWxsXsEyvClAYK1tokkIiNASGS4RZhsQS5ywsslrqEw_BtAviu/s1600/St+Loy+Feb+20010+007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit84zU18bRm4dosNGw5OU55FXBxd4ihFYgiuzoZtaZ-Lvsij4wFDpZZxGfBjdCJBPN71Yf1e2KUuFzD9E8EGKURMebj1hWxsXsEyvClAYK1tokkIiNASGS4RZhsQS5ywsslrqEw_BtAviu/s200/St+Loy+Feb+20010+007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567220476622020642" /></a>Paganlitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03907163247871968326noreply@blogger.com1