The Spring Equinox was complete. We had been all around the mid-eastern side of the country from Rutland, through Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire, and now we were heading home via Derbyshire. Did someone say “heading home”? Not yet! As we dropped down into the end of Bakewell and idea began to stir in our febrile minds. What if… we went to Arbor Low? The sun was dropping behind the tall hills and ridges that line the route between Bakewell and Buxton, but it was still a relatively pleasant Spring day. There was life in it yet!
It took only a few seconds of discussion to say “yes”, but then we ended up having to circle around to get back to the A515 near to Monyash. We went in a gigantic loop, but then everything about Arbor Low is gigantic – its scale, the size of the stones, the strength of the bitter wind!
Despite being out all day we were relatively spritely when we arrived. Hunkered up against the inevitable cold we raced for the huge earthwork surroundings, hoping for respite within its deeply-trenched interior. The long shadows mimicked our long day and made us look like giants striding across the landscape as the sun dropped quickly into a pool of red light. We had paid our dues in more ways than one as Kal pointed out that we had been on the go for about 13 hours.
It was twilight when we arrived. Kal strode into the earthwork and off to the right-hand side. I got my dowsing rods out to find an entry point. It was the main entrance this time – a rarity. What wasn’t a rarity was the location that was to be my workplace – it was the usual recumbent stone that I have come to know and love. I sat facing East. East and Spring – such a powerhouse today, that orientation!
As I sat and meditated with nothing to disturb me except my own mind and the distant lowing of cattle, I began to ask whether I had completed my quest to germinate the seed. The answer was that I had done so. Whatever that might come to mean over the course of this year, I had prepared the soil, as it were, for growth.
That turned my focus to the question of a new quest. Was there any new quest that I could be undertaking at this time between Spring and Beltane? I sat in expectation, and soon a single phrase emerged in my mind.
As has recently been the case it came in the form of a riddling phrase whose meaning was laden yet obscure:
“Become the giant”
Simple. Inexplicable. But somehow so entirely appropriate for the imagery and sentiment of this place.
Now all I had to do was to figure out what that could mean for me over the course of the next few weeks until Spring really got going and Summer was beckoning. Everything, it seemed, was on the increase.