Hedge Druidry

Ancestor Spirit on Primrose Hill

February 27, 2015

Whenever I go to London I wonder about the spiritual possibilities. Should I go to a lecture? Buy some esoteric books? Are there any places of historical or energetic interest that I could visit? On this occasion my mind was turned towards Primrose Hill.

Primrose Hill has a loose and unclear association with druids. I knew that a clan of modern druids have used the hill for ceremonies, but its more ancient association was not readily accessible. It turned out (coincidence) that my wife’s weekend course happened to be in the Regent’s Park area, and Primrose Hill is at the edge of the park. With such an astonishing coincidence in play I had to make the hill my primary objective for a solo excursion.

I wandered around Regent’s Park in circles taking photographs like a good tourist, and then set my course for the hill. Soon I was amid the clans of footballers whose tribal clashes pealed through the dull grey air like scalded seagulls. As I reached the back of London Zoo I was surprised to find a canal, then a road – two artificial separators keeping the green spaces of the park and the hill apart like squabbling siblings.

White-robed funsters gather on Primrose Hill.

As I dodged the flocks of senior citizens wielding their over-priced bicycles like unfamiliar weapons I found myself in a clear space with a view of the hill. I say “hill”. In Northern England this geographical feature would be called a “rise” to indicate its shallow and un-daunting nature. “Hill” is a term reserved from something that would take some effort to scale. “Scale” was definitely the watchword here! Still, I switched off my “tourist mode” thinking, and began to relax into a more sedate state of mind. I allowed my thoughts to disperse, and after protecting myself energetically I let myself begin to connect to the feel of the place.

I began to walk. A serpentine lethargic walk with a vacant gaze, in stark contrast to the focussed intent and spear-like paths of the joggers and cyclists around me. They stayed firmly on the designated tarmacked paths whereas I wandered off-piste almost immediately. Where would the energetic path lead me, I wondered?

With no rods to follow I was using a feeling in my temples as my guide. A push this way; a tug that way; these were my markers as I walked slowly up the hill.

Two young oaks on Primrose Hill
Two young oaks on Primrose Hill

The first time I circled around was where two young oak trees were situated. I paid them some respect, giving a little joyous energy and asking for “safe travel” up the hill. Onwards – moving across the soggy grass where water had collected at the base of the hill. Was this excess run-off from concreted home gardens all around, I considered?

Next I was taken to a group of small hawthorn trees that actually looked hoary and old. Maybe the London air had stunted their natural growth, I chuckled. Further up the hill, leftways, rightways, occasionally spiralling and stopping. Soon I was approaching the crest of the hill and could see people gathered on the circular concreted area at the summit. The rods diverted me away from this group and invited me to stand on a power centre just off to one side of the summit. I stopped “to admire the view” as I waited for the energy spot to work on my aura. Soon I felt “compatible” and ready for some more interesting work.

London - February 2015 (146)
The pinnacle of London – the top of Primrose Hill


The Hidden Grove

My attention was placed upon a group of hawthorn trees nearby. I could see that despite them being in plain sight, no-one was venturing into the circle of trees. I felt strangely drawn to them, and moved off the top of the hill to go stand with my back to the most prominent of the group of hawthorns. It felt inviting and familiar in this strange busy city.

Using the mesh of dark and bare tree branches which fragmented the light I went quickly into a trance after putting up some protection and waited to see if I could get a response from any spirit associated with the area. Indeed I did! Not only a response, but a name too.

A mesh of light fragmented into dapples by branches
A mesh of light fragmented into dapples by branches

I asked about the hill, its history and associations with those who are intimate with Nature, and I got a download of information so quickly that I couldn’t process it, so I let it sit there waiting to be unpacked at some future time.

Ancestral yearnings

It was then that I remembered that I had read something about TWO forms of guiding spirits that may be available to be brought close to an energy worker. I had been reading Morgan Daimler’s “Fairy Witchcraft” book while travelling on The Underground. How fitting, I thought! Anyway – this thought now emerged that I might call upon an ancestral guide. Was this a suitable space to do this? The feeling was, yes. So I set to work asking the question, and calling upon an ancestral guide to come work with me.

I was rapidly taken back to a place in Ireland, a place I had visited in 2012 called “The Fort of the Bulls“. It was a place where I had battled with an ancestor for the right to claim the family name and crown. The man whom I had been battling energetically with on that occasion was the very same person who now stepped forward to show me that he had been guiding me ever since that moment! I had no need to call upon him now. My ancestral guide had been there for years! At least, I felt, I now knew this and could act accordingly if need be.

London - February 2015 (147)
A special grove on Primrose Hill


I came out of my reverie. I had been undisturbed during the fifteen minutes or so that I had been in trance. It was only now that I noticed two significant things: firstly, the clouties attached to the tree right in front of me, and secondly, the shard of pottery placed in the cleft of the trunk right above my head. Signs of pagan visitation. No wonder I felt at home!

As I exited the dark bare grove I turned back to look at the spot. Almost as soon as I had left people from all over seemed to find a reason to stray off the path and walk through the place. Interesting that I had been undisturbed in that spot for so long, considering how open it was and how many people must have passed in that time. Coincidence, politeness or a protective field – I couldn’t say.

Normality intervened itself. The runners continued to huff and puff their way up the slope. The dogs ran amok. The cyclists performed formation close encounters with everyone on foot. They day returned to normal, and I came back to the present. Yet I had become more closely bound to the past too. I was taking that guidance forward into the future now.


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