Carn Euny Fogou and Chapel Euny Holy Well

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.

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.

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...

Images and invocation for Brigid, Bride,Brighid, Brigit

Poem for Brigid

Hail and welcome Brigid
Goddess of the North East
Come Bride
Bless this hearth
With life and light
With milk and mead
With the flame of poetry
Forged in craft and fire
And the soft white light of healing
As the crone washes in the sparkling well
And is reborn anew
Welcome Brigid
Bride of Spring
As you emerge pale and fragile
From dark winter's loam
And sing to us in a quiver of bare branches
And a shiver of sun
Fingering your way between snow clouds and rain
Floating on icy tides
Lady of Swans
Your breath soft as down
Whispers
Flickers
Inspires
Desires

Snowdrops at St Loy, near Lamorna, West Penwith

Celebrating Brigid in these Times of Change

Wednesday 2nd February is calendar Imbolc, feast of Brigid, Goddess of healing, smithcraft, home, hearth, poetry and inspiration. 2011 seems to be a time to follow our inspiration and plant our ideas firmly in the earth as an act of healing for the future. The present times seem extremely unpredictable as we witness global protest against authoritarian government regimes, extreme environmental disasters and sweeping cuts which seem to be affecting the vulnerable in our own back yard. In many ways one could view this as bleak, just like the icy wind and barren earth outside. Yet change brings not only instability, but also possibility. This time is an urgent wake up call. Inside each of us is the seed of possiblity and the potential for positive change and growth.

For me, the past few years have felt like a time of deep personal healing accompanied by unforseen, sudden changes in home and hearth along with huge opportunities for growth. I am now feeling an inner urgency to translate that inner growth into outer action: a need to contribute, to heal, inspire and work in harmony with others. I have always felt strongly that change has to occur within before it can manifest in the external world. It seems for the last ten years I have been slowly learning to 'school the soul'...Keats and that this is the journey we are all on. Part of my process at present is an increasing awareness and sensitivity to the need to contribute in my own backyard. Malcolm X actually advocated this and I believe it holds much truth. We need to set our own house in order and endeavor to make changes in ourselves, our family, our community, workplace, relationships first and in doing so we can change the world in which we live. Ghandi said:'You may never know what results come of your action, but if you do nothing there will be no result.'And 'Be the change you want to see in the world'....He also said there was no better way to find yourself than to lose yourself in the servise of others.

I do a very simple act when I go out walking and this is just picking up any letter I see and either recycling it or putting it in a bin. I am horrified at the amount of litter in the hedgegrows and back lanes near the town in which I live. This act is easy and I just make sure I take a bag with me when I go out so that maybe that path I walked down will be clearer for the next person or someone will see me and maybe think twice before they walk over the next pizza container in the street. I feed the birds regularly, I recycle what I can, I endeavor to smile and to be friendly to others and help them. None of this costs anything and yet it is amazing how far a smile or an act of empathy can go.I believe that once you make changes at this very basic level it is surprising how that energy can act as a flame for others and inspire them into acts of growth and healing. I have chosen to work for a domestic violence charity and in doing so see daily how far a smile or act of kindness can make the difference to the day of a woman or child feeling alone, vulnerable, afraid and in need of warmth and hope.

At this time the first shoots are struggling to emerge from the earth and the bulbs are heralding potential for growth stored within the earth throughout the winter. The evenings are starting to draw out and the light in the sky is clear and sparkling in unblemished blue. Brigid is heralding her return as maiden and the branches have begun to sing. So too can we as we heal ourselves and our commmunity. the church renamed Imbolc as Candlemass...it is a festival of light. We too can light the flame of hope and inspiration in our hearts as we extend Brigid's gifts of healing and light into a world that so desperately needs it.

A good idea for Imbolc is to light a candle and ask Brigid for healing and inspiration. Or maybe go on a walk and notice the signs of change in the air and in the hedgerow.Visit a holy well and hang a ribbon or 'cloutie' as a prayer for healing. Thanks Brigid for her gifts and cleanse your own home and hearth in preparation for the Spring.Welcome her energy into your hearth, home and community. Walk your path with intention and stay grounded in what you seek to manifest. The earth at this time is wet and muddy, the sap is starting to rise and the rain to fall...there may even be a last flurry of snow...and yet the first snowdrops are appearing like little lights in the dark green shades of the woods and one by one they create clusters and those clusters create carpets and before you know it there before you is a spreading mantle of pure,flickering, angelic light.

Blessed Be xxx
.

New Year...New Moon....Partial Solar Eclipse

This is a time of new beginnings - sun and moon are together in the same sign which happens to be Capricorn.Also, today was illuminated further by a partial solar eclipse: the moon passing in front of the sun!The word ‘eclipse’ comes from the Greek word ékleipsis, or ekleíp(ein), which means to leave out, forsake, fail to appear.I tried to view it between 8am and 9.30am but most of the sky was obscured by cloud. Today's eclipse was visible across much of the Middle East, Europe, North Africa and central Asia.There will be four solar eclipses in 2011 and two lunar ones.And meteor showers tonight.

Last night I went outside to look up at a beautiful clear night's sky prompted by BBC 2's excellent 'Stargazing Live'with Professor Brian Cox which will be on over the next 2 nights at 8pm. He urged you to turn off the TV after the programme and go outdoors to view the stars and planets above you. It was a refreshing reminder that there is so much to see at night if we can be bothered to get up from the sofa and discover it. Jupiter was visible in the sky due south.I also found this beautiful simulation on U Tube.



New Moon is a good time for meditating on new projects you would like to begin...whilst the moon is in Capricorn look at your foundations and how comfortable you are with your own laws, rules and regulations.Saturn ruled Capricorn focusses on career, public life, achievement, reputation and personal accountability. This is moon for achievement and sure footed starts.

Another major event happening today is Jupiter's conjunction to Uranus in the sign of Pisces - the last of three conjunctions (for about 12 years) that began June of last year. The need for progressive change is strong under this influence. We might take risks for the sake of freedom. We can open ourselves up to new ways of thinking, approaches, and attitudes now. Enthusiasm runs high, the desire for freedom from restrictions is strong, and thirst for adventure is with us.

Blessed Be xx

John Harris - Cornish Poet

John Harris was born in 1820 in Bolenowe, a small village not far from Camborne, in Cornwall. His father was a miner at Dolcoath Tin Mine where young John also started at the age of 10.He began writing poetry as a child, usually in the open air where he was inspired by nature. He published several volumes of poetry, including his masterpiece, the loco-descriptive poem 'A Story of Carn Brea'. None of his poetry is now in print. John Harris died in 1884.


Johm Harris 'A Story of Carn Brea' Extracts


"How blissful thus to muse where Nature pours
Her incense forth in hollows watch'd with hills,
And roof'd with stars, and floor'd with living flowers!
0 what a temple is the leafy wood,
The rude old carn, the ocean's solemn shore,
The valley's bosom, and the meadow's lap!
I love thee, Nature, with a fire unfeign'd,
And ever at thy feet thy child would sit
In pleasant meditation, where the eye
Of selfish man beholds not my retreat,
In storm or calm, when heaven is blue or black,
Learning thy lore, and treasuring up thy truth." Extract Book One



"HOW often hast thou fed my early Muse,
Crag-heap'd Carn Brea, when from my father's meads
I scann'd thy front, mist-clad or clear, deeming
My mount and thee twin-sisters beautiful!
One bright May morn, when violets were rare,
I trick'd old Labour, and equipp'd myself
With poets' baggage, pencil, sheet, and lyre,
And, walking o'er the moors, I turn'd my face
Towards its summit shining in the dawn,
As't were an old bard welcoming the young.
I cross'd the meadows, follow'd by our dog,
Who snuff'd the air and bark'd among the flowers,
Right happy to be free! The larks were up,
Singing among the cloudlets, and sweet song
Gush'd from a hundred hollows. In the fields
The cottagers were busy with their spades,
And ploughs, and harrows; and perhaps they thought
I was a crazy fellow wandering weird.
I reach'd the mountain's base, where an old man
And a young lad were cutting granite blocks,
Perchance to build a cottage of their own;
And hard enough they work'd. So on I went
To gain the summit of this famous carn,
Which look'd so distant from my father's door,
That oft in childhood I have thought the sun
Stopp'd on the rocks and started forth again,
Renew'd by resting on its ridgy brow;
And in my dreams within my own dear bower
I oft believed, if I could wander there,
I should be sure to see great Phœbus' bed,
And mark the door from whence the moon came out,
And view the' uncover'd stars." Extract Book Two

At the moment, I am revisiting my early love of the Romantic poets and am reading a biography of William Wordsworth. Many poets, artists and writers find their early spiritual experiences in Nature in what Wordsworth describes as 'spots of time'.These moments are transcendent, timeless moments when the individual feels a profound sense of unity with nature and a harmony which can be revisited in the imagination later in life and which acts as a spring of inspiration and healing.Wordsworth began to question why, as a child, he once was able to see an immortal presence within nature but as an adult that was fading away except in these few moments:

'There are in our existence spots of time,
That with distinct pre-eminence retain
A renovating virtue, whence–depressed
By false opinion and contentious thought,
Or aught of heavier or more deadly weight,
In trivial occupations, and the round
Of ordinary intercourse–our minds
Are nourished and invisibly repaired;
A virtue, by which pleasure is enhanced,
That penetrates, enables us to mount,
When high, more high, and lifts us up when fallen.'

The Prelude W.Wordsworth

It is worthwhile pausing for a moment and reflecting on these moments in our own life, particularly early moments in childhood to draw a sense of healing and strength.The power of nature to enable us to overcome the difficulties of our daily 'trivial occupations' is profound. In John Harris's vision of Carn Brea, he resembles Wordsworth as he sets out on an early morning ramble to greet the dawn imagining himself as poet, artist and minstrel with his pencil, sheet and lyre. He feels free from the daily grind of a miner's life as he passes a miner and his son cutting granite blocks for their cottage. The way he describes the 'ridgy brow' of the 'craggy carn' which he views as a mountain personifies it.It is a living entity of mythic and eternal significance to him and he sees it every day. I love the way he sees himself as slightly mad; a 'crazy fellow wandering weird'and in this day and age as he cheats the mundane work day he must have been viewed as such by the community of sombre Methodists. This sense of seeing the carn as a quest and adventure to be enjoyed really moved me as I too have set forth in the same way on a May morning and it is true that still the Carn Brea valley is alive with birdsong and blossom at this time of year.Like Wordworth and many a Romantic he will wonder in his imagination back to this moment when he is dreaming in his 'bower'. Wordsworth says:
'For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;

when he describes his vision of the daffodils in his famous poem. As winter draws in it is comforting to lie on the sofa and dream of those moments of harmony and spiritual inspiration in nature. I like the way Harris walks out from his father's door. He can imbue this carn with the grandeur of a mountain and by climbing it he is closer to the infinite, just as Wordsworth climbed Helvellyn and other Lakeland peaks. Many poets seek their muse in high places like the prophets and bards of ancient Greece sought their Gods and Goddesses on Mount Olympus. Thus each of us can find in ourselves the poet and the pilgrim as we set out from our ordinary front doors in search of these extraordinary moments.

Blessed Be x x x

Carwynnen Quoit

"There is present little doubt amongst antiquaries with respect to the originall Cromlech; it is generally believed to be a sepulchral monument used by the Druids to mark the places of interment of the Druid chief or such princes as were favourable to their order" John Greig 1808A couple of Sundays ago I went for a walk with my sister and neices to Carwynnen Quoit on the outskirts of Troon and on the edge of the Pendarves estate. It was a beautifully mellow late Autumn afternoon and the woods were copper and golden with pathways of deeply fallen leaves and guilded with rays of sun through the branches. I love these woods. They seem very old and are full of earth works possibly from mining, but the area itself is full of fascinating history from the 19th century hamlet of Treslothan to the ancient hut circles on Copper Hill recorded by Charles Thomas.This quoit can easily be approached from the road from Troon to Carwynnen and is discovered at the bottom of a gated field.Known as the Giants Quoit, it has also been called 'The Devil's Frying Pan' set in what was known in old tithe records as 'Frying Pan Field'. The quoit is now being preserved by the Sustainable Trust who hope to resurrect it and the land in which it reposes. Old photos on an information board at the site show a picnic around a capstoned quoit very much like Lanyon Quoit in West Penwith. The quoit is Neolithic (3,500-2,500BC).The capstone of this tomb once stood on three supports and was 1.5m high. It collapsed in 1834, was rebuilt and then fell again in 1967. It has remained collapsed ever since.It is difficult to seethat it is a quoit as it looks more like a pile of boulders but if one looks more closely one can see the capstone beneath two former support stones and a third beneath.A meeting of the Camborne branch of the Old Cornwall Society was held at the stones in the summer of 1925 and the Bards of the Cornish Gorseth held their annual gathering at the quoit in 1948.

When we visited we shared our time with a resident horse who was very protective of his patch and rather too friendly so we didn't stay long as none of us were terribly confident with being followed quite so closely.
John Harris, a major 19th century poet, was a miner who loved to walk in the Pendarves area. He is buried at Treslothan Churchyard with his beloved daughter Lucretia.

"Our curious cromlechs! Let no hand of man
Destroy these stony prophets which the Lord
Has placed upon the tarns and sounding downs
With tones for distant ages."
'Destruction of the Cornish Toman' by John Harris