The Hedge Druid

Archive for the ‘Wheel of the Year’ Category

What I most enjoy about the work I do with sentient entities is the way that it is possible to get both immediate feedback, and then sometimes you will get a sign or a little gift later on when the whole episode has been integrated into your being. Such was my double dip reward at The Bridestones this Imbolc. Firstly I had the absolute pleasure of spending it with some good friends – the best I have – and secondly I got a visual reward when I found that Brigid herself had made an appearance on camera.

Signs for Britain’s Sickest Village?

As this was the final site visit of Imbolc we happened to arrive very close to sunset, with just enough time to prepare for the setting sun. Very little of our visits are planned in terms of timing, and this was another occasion when we just happened to have arrived when we needed to. Something was certainly involved in guiding us that day as a whole. We had encountered “signs” related to being stuck, and having barriers in our way as we travelled around the Derbyshire countryside. For example, Mike had mentioned that one particular village – Swythamley – had some terrible energies, and that we should go an experience this for ourselves. Kal was not keen on this at all, but I dutifully followed navigational directions in order to drive through the place out of curiosity. As we got closer to the village we encountered a huge lorry stuck in the middle of the road on a bend. We narrowly missed being squashed as it squeezed past the car. Then there were two near misses with other lorries that also caused us to have to either brake severely and swerve, or stop completely to allow the lorry to pass. Not particularly unusual in Derbyshire, but it was the coincidence of these events happening as we approached Swythamley that made Kal in particular take notice of the signs, and begin to express his dread fear that we might not get out of the village alive!

I noticed the energetic field around the village as we approached the outskirts of the first buildings indicating the village boundary. The place began to feel increasingly dreadful. Awful, horrific energies pushed my sacral chakra point relentlessly making me feel more and more nauseous. I nearly vomited as we reached the centre where people had parked their cars to go walking in the nearby hills. “Why would they park here!” I opined, disbelieving that we were the only ones that could feel this awful throbbing darkness. As we left the village, to the relief of everyone, particularly me, I noticed that the village lay at the end of two long straight rods that were channelling energies into the basin of Swythamley village itself. A warning: if you’re energetically aware, please don’t ever go there! Not even out of curiosity. For the next five minutes I spent my time energetically cleansing myself with silver and gold light visualisations.

The fading light of Imbolc at The Bridestones

As we arrived at The Bridestones a lorry tried to turn into the tiny lane leading to the quarry next tot he site. We sat for five minutes in the road watching in disbelief as the strange stuck lorry syndrome was repeated. Please, I begged, don’t let this be another sign that the energies are terrible. Not after all the work that Mike and I had done to try to repair the energetic framework of the site. We entered the site after the lorry abandoned its fruitless task and as we walked through the gate and the yew bower everyone agreed that the site felt much much better than they had ever expected. Phew! Things were looking good.

Diversions aside, we began our preparation for the Imbolc sunset.

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I had a chain of sites in mind for Imbolc this year. Kal and I had already gone through the list and dowsed an order or preference based upon the energetic requirements of the people who would be there – Kal, Mike and myself. For Kal the important sites would be Lud’s Church and St Helen’s Well. For myself and Mike the important site would be The Bridestones. In addition I wanted to show Kal Clulow Cross too, but then I sprung a surprise on everyone. Marton Chapel near Congleton, Cheshire would be our first site.

For some reason I needed to go to Marton Chapel. I didn’t know why but something about it appealed to me. I don’t even remember how I came across the name of this church. Somehow, in some research one evening, the name appeared. The name had been written down on a piece of paper for several weeks now, but Imbolc felt like the time to pay the place a visit. I dowsed some possible reasons for going, using educated and intuitive guesses to get the questions. The result was that I believed I might meet with the shadeA shade is the energy body of a human being that has become transfixed at a geographical location. The shade retains many of the qualities of the human that it was attached to (memories, character traits, a level of sentience, movement between places known in life). (the emergetic remainder) of someone who wanted to speak with me. How odd! Really? I was curious, but also cautious, and checked to see whether this was a good idea. The dowsing rods told me it was. OK – let’s do it and see what happened!

Grounding and smiling

As we pulled into the churchyard I could see that this was at least going to be a wonderful photograph. The clear blue Winter sky formed a perfect backdrop for the quaint timber-framed church building. It was delightful and the moods of the assembled companions – Mike, Kal and I – could not have been merrier. I wandered for a moment but then felt like I was being drawn to one of the yew trees near the rear end of the church – it’s eastern end. I found a clear spot beneath the tree and knew this was the position. I got my dowsing rods out and walked back a few paces. In all innocence and with the most objectivity I could muster I asked for the best place for me to be right now – I was led in a tight curl back to the place I had been standing. This was the strongest energy point for me.

Seconds later Kal turns up and confirms the spot as the strongest, but says that all the shades have been drawn into the tree by its incredible strength. Already I knew what he was talking about. I could feel the pulling momentum of the tree as it was drawing energy into its trunk and down through its roots. To say that Yew trees are excellent at energy grounding is akin to saying that the sky was blue. Mike was also interested in the tree, offering a different perspective on proceedings by confirming the strength of the attractive power, and adding that it is generating a “happy”, “laughter” energy. It did feel good to stand beneath its branches, that was undeniable. We all were smiling just by being close to it. We were being grounded and cleansed, and that felt good.

Marton Chapel - a timber-framed church near Congleton, Cheshire.

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As a follower of a seasonal path, and someone who has developed their sensitivity to the variety and strength of the energies available throughout the year, Imbolc - February 1st – marks the opening of the new year. For me it symbolises the return of the male energies. What does this mean exactly? It means that up until the beginning of February the Sun’s light has been too weak to feed the activity of the male subtle energies that inhabit the Earth, and which are present in living things. Therefore, for me, Imbolc marks the beginning of an increase in the strength and vitality of anything that is enlivened by the influence of male (or Sun-sourced) energies.

In Britain this year there has been an exception to this general rule concerning the presence of male energy. Male ‘subtle’ energy has in fact been available, albeit in a very weakened form. This has been due to the amount of sustained sunlight that we have been receiving. You can feel it in the land – the birds are singing, the buds are appearing, there have even been flowers blooming in January – normally a time when most delicate biological entities retreat into themselves and rest. An unusual year indeed. At this exact moment the frost and cold has returned to bite, yet the sun continues to shine. It is a most unusual beginning.

The heat and height of the Summer

The unusual start makes it difficult to contemplate how the year might work itself out. Are we going to see the seasons having “unseasonal” weather? Are they going to be unrecognisable from our traditional weather patterns? What will this mean for the strength and prevalence of the Earth’s subtle energyA form of energy that has so far eluded scientific definition. It is neither electric, magenetic, nor electro-magnetic, so far as our current technical equipment can measure. It does, however, exhibit many of the characteristics of magnetism and electricity in terms of its effects and properties. It may be a form of either or both of those energies that we have not yet identified. forces, and for the living biological energy of its inhabitants? My feeling is that we are going to see a real peak in Sun energy this year. This may require some balancing out by those of us who work well with Moon energy (female), as we feed a calming influence into the land through selected node points on the energy grid. Let’s not get all hot-headed and hysterical just because the Olympics are coming to town in the height of Summer! It’s just a game, an amusement, a distraction.

As with all previous years that I have followed my spiritual path I returned to the Llangernyw Yew Tree for inspiration. CommuningAn interaction with an invisible and natural sentient force that is independently identifiable, even if it cannot be named or classified. The interaction takes place at the level of a subtle amalgamation of the mind of the perceiver such that a dialogue or transference of feelings may occur between the two sentient parties. The interaction that is ‘communing’ is purposefully initiated by the perceiver for the express purpose of learning or simply to transfer feelings in a sympathetic manner. with this tree seems to set the spark on the year’s tinder and soon a flame of encouraging light emerges from the kindling provided by this ancient life force nestled deep in the heart of a small village in North Wales. I will talk about the visit in more detail soon, but the outcome was one word: “Renown“. I will be spending the year seeking out sources to increase my personal power. Renown is a subject that I will return to and explain more fully in subsequent posts. No doubt I have much more to learn about it as the year goes on.

Now let’s talk about specific preparations that I am making for Imbolc, and that you could make too.

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In the second part of my Winter Solstice expedition I hereby present the story of  Thor’s Cave. You may remember that I was directed to seek the sanctuary and sanctity of a cave atmosphere as a suitable space within which to see out the end of what has been a very interesting year. I think there are several reason why a cave would be a suitable space. Firstly, because I was visiting at the Winter Solstice, this time of year is all about closure. It is about letting go of any tensions built up in the year, of concentrating all of the information learned in that yearly cycle, and then of closing down to wait for the energies to re-appear at Imbolc in February. With a cave’s aura-shaping capability, it made sense to me that seeking a dark enclosed space within which to agglomerate all of the year’s teachings would be the ideal choice. Kal and I learned about the aura-shaping aspects of caves earlier in September from our visit to South Wales.

Thor’s Cave is probably quite easy to get to if you approach it from the road below, but you would be presented with a very steep climb. Instead, Mike and I approached from the footpath just at the edge of Wetton village and there was very little climbing involved, but the ground was wet, muddy and slippery in many parts so we had some amusing episodes both there and back as we struggled for grip. One you reach the front of the cave, however, the entrance is awe-inspiring in size.

Entrance to Thor's Cave - he was out when we called

It may not be obvious from the pictures but you can’t walk into the cave – you have to climb. For us at this time of year this meant scrambling over wet smooth rocks and all hands and feet were needed to get into the cave without sliding back out. I would recommend you visit on a dry warm day. For some reason I was totally unprepared this day and hadn’t brought a torch! Luckily, Mike had – this was a complete role-reversal that amused us both for ages.

Shafts of remaining sunlight filtered into the cave from the huge entrance and the tall slit in the rocks at the side of the cave, letting in enough light for us to make our way slowly and carefully to the back of the cave. There, the ground rose slightly and split into several hollows arranged around a central protrusion of rock. We tried to make ourselves comfortable to begin a meditation, but the intense slope of the ground and the dampness of the rocks made it difficult to find a comfortable position. We rapidly decided that a standing meditation would be sufficient today. “Adopt, adapt and overcome“!

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When I dowsed to find which sites I should visit for the Winter Solstice this year I was surprised that only two types were signified: a circle and a cave. Well, it didn’t take me long to work out which stone circle I should visit. Top of my list was Nine Ladies, and it remained the favourite because all the others failed the suitability test when dowsed. Next I had to find a suitable cave. This task was much harder. With my first site being in Derbyshire I reckoned that finding a cave in the area would be simple .Far from it! It took me several days to find and dowse the suitability of a natural cave that was not a tourist attraction closed for the Winter. The result was Thor’s Cave, which was just inside the Staffordshire border, but close to Leek and south Derbyshire. Perfect! I deliberately didn’t read up anything about it so that the experience would be fresh and exciting. I will blog about the cave visit soon, but first, here’s my account of my Winter Solstice visit to Nine Ladies stone circle.

Solstice morning arrived and I began to tedious journey across to mid-Cheshire to meet my friend Mike. At each step of the journey I was delayed – firstly by a huge lorry trundling along the back roads, then by a tractor pulling a huge payload of hay bales, and then, just as I had cleared that obstacle and was wondering whether I could possibly get behind anything that would be slower – out pulled a funeral cortege and I was down to 20mph for the next few miles of reverent driving. I had to laugh! When I arrived at Mike’s I fold him that I had arrived at exactly the right time – 15 minutes late, but just as I had completely chilled out due to the slow pace. Perfect timing!

Nine Ladies Dancing

As we approach the stone circle from below, following a track that is probably only visible in the Winter months, I stop to register the edge of the stone circle’s nemeton – I can feel an energy change and I turn to look at Mike, but Mike has a puzzled look on his face. Is he sensing something, I wonder? He says that he can see lots of “little people” all around us, gathering to usher us on towards the stone circle, and dancing around our feet. He wonders if I can see them. I can’t, but I can feel their presence, like being brushed past by lots of invisible mice. He searched his mind for the correct word, and returns with “Pixies”. I haven’t heard that word in years – how quaint!

We continue to the small gathering of sandstone rocks that are heavily carved. Now that the undergrowth is completely gone they are all exposed, and I can see one facing me with a very clear message…

Pot-Head Pixie immortalised at Nine Ladies Stone Circle

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In a way you judge someone by the quality of the places that they take you to. Recently I was taken to a place the day before Samhain this year. I had once so nearly visited but somehow circumstances had conspired to make me miss it by only a short distance. Now I had a tour guide with local knowledge. When Mike spoke of the place it was in reverential tones, and the hint was always that it was a magickal place. The kind of place where you may come away with the course of your life taking a slightly tangential turn. He had spoken of the place’s power for change in the way that people who have genuinely experienced life-changing moments do – hushed tones, distant eyes – as though recalling some kind or form of force that the Anglo-Saxon pillar was imbued with.

You are then left with a decision – do I believe the power of this place, or do I have to go test it our for myself? I have to test it, of course! Progress must take its course during the year’s treadmill. Places of power should be visited. The dilemma – who by? Yet the Land can have lessons for everyone, surely. Good or bad. Clever or stupid. If I tell of the place, then I advertise its wonder, and more people probably come. There are some wells near where I live that birthed and died through the advertisement of their miraculous energies, effects and efficacies. However, I will mention the place’s name. What people do with it will reap its own rewards.

Clulow Cross - A truly illuminating place

In a previous post about the nearby Bullstones I had supposed that this had been the magickal stone that Mike’s tales had been centred upon. I was wrong. The description of the surroundings had matched my previous finding exactly, so when Mike and friends had allowed us to follow them up into the Derbyshire moorland and hills I thought I knew exactly where we were going. As we parked and got out of our respective cars the other group appeared to be heading in the wrong direction, until I realised that it was me who had made the mistake. Clulow Cross was down in the field on the Congleton side of Hammerton Knowl, not standing on the other side of the Knowl’s ridge between Wincle and Wilboarclough. This was the pillar remainder of an actual stone cross, not just a place name to locate a hidden monolithic treasure. And hidden it is. Nestled in a clump of middle-aged beech trees, the cross itself is hard to spot until you are within striking distance with an acorn.

An Aside About Access

I have probably pussy-footed and tap-danced around this subject for many years on this blog. Let me state this right out now as an opinion, and then I will attempt to back it up.

I have a right to walk the land. My right. My land. I will walk it. I will be respectful, courteous, kind and gentle as I do so. But I will walk it. It is my, our, everyone’s land.

Anyone who believes they own land needs to consider this perspective – the land has been there before humans as a species were even invented. Once we were invented we were given intellect to allow the development of the concept of custodianship. We are all of us guardians of our own lands, the lands with which we identify in our hearts.

Yes, others may choose to abuse their rights, and those that choose to be discourteous and un-cooperative with the custodians will always exist, but they are a manageable minority who will cause ill-will in whatever environment they find themselves. They are a test of everybody’s patience, and are not exclusive preserve of the irate farmer, or the country estate employee, or the quarry worker, or the member of this and that Trust.

Those who consider themselves to be “land owners” will have to live with their own arrogance on a daily basis. You ought only to encounter it occasionally as you walk these lands. We have a right to roam. We always have. We always will.

So, now that you understand my position and haven’t yet stopped reading in outrage and humph-pah, well, you should read on to find out what magick awaits the pagan who claims the right to roam.

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This year, 2011, I spent Samhain at two places. Not at the same time, obviously. That would be impossible even for a hedge druid who is accustomed to the unusual. I first spent some time with a group of friends in Derbyshire (more about that soon) and then I went with my wife M to Pembrokeshire. In Pembrokeshire we first climbed the hills to visit Arthur’s Grave (see previous post this month) and then I made an unannounced stop off at Pentre Ifan, because I remembered that it was quite close to the route we would take to get back home. Never one to miss an opportunity, I saw this as a chance to discover what the remainder of the year might offer in terms of my healing quest.

As far as I was concerned the visit to Arthur’s Grave an hour earlier had been the culmination of a spiral that had begun at Spring Equinox and had completed this Halloween.  I wasn’t sure, therefore, what I would get out of visiting Pentre Ifan. All I knew was that I felt drawn to it, and that i wanted to see whether its incredible energies would spark any further revelations about my tasks for the year. Perhaps it might confirm that actually all was done and I could rest for the remainder of the year? No more site visits or blog posts, perhaps? All quiet now? Rest and recuperation? Not a chance!

View of Pentre Ifan at Samhain

We stopped at the site information board to take a look at how the archaeologists have reconstructed the mound. Their representation seemed remarkably familiar – it matched the reconstruction done at Tinkinswood in South Wales. Perhaps the neolithic people were all working from a similar template, or perhaps the geometry or the physics of the places simply suggested a natural configuration that was now generally agreed upon amongst The Intelligentsia of our times? I wonder what became of all the rubble that one surrounded the great stones? The site is so clean now. The information sign put the entrance portal at the south. I have previously dowsed the same, so that’s one aspect I agree with.

How Pentre Ifan may have once looked

I re-introduced myself to the site,. seeking the permission of the Spirit of Place before attempting to enter its energetic boundary. Being successful (politeness and respect seem to be viable currency with the spirits that inhabit such places) I began to dowse for the best starting point for me at the site. It was a flat round rock at the eastern edge of the main uprights, and I recognised this as the same stone upon which I had started and energised when I had previously visited the site in the late summer of 2008. That seemed like someone else’s life, and a whole lifespan away, and I found it hard to relate to the person who had stood there only three years ago. Yet it was me. How would the site react to me now, I wondered?

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