The Hedge Druid

Archive for the ‘Wheel of the Year’ Category

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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On a day that only a mother could love I dragged my long-suffering spouse into the farthest reaches of our lands to the western shores of Pembrokeshire. Why would I do such a thing to a nice lady? Well, I had taken the day off to celebrate Samhain, and it was part of my year’s quest that I should resolve the link between Berth and Death. That’s The Berth – a Shropshire hillfort – and Arthur’s Grave, the final destination for a mythical character and a hedge druid. If you haven’t read the beginning of this story, then may I refer you to this post? I feel compelled to do so.

So, the story was that “The Death of Scorpio”, or the coincidence of the constellation appearing at the point of the western sunset along the south-western axis that joined The Berth to Arthur’s Grave was the reason I was making a four hour drive along slippery autumnal-bedecked roads to hike into the back of beyond. As I journeyed that day I was continuously recognising places that Kal and I had passed on our journey to the same location earlier in the year at Spring Equinox. On that occasion I had come to Beddarthur (Arthur’s Grave) as the final part of a quest to use the energies of three stars to unlock an inactive part of my DNA sequence, and potentially unlock some hidden healing powers. At the time I had no idea what I had done. During the year I discovered that I had acquired an ability to draw energy from plants to use to negate the dark and twisted energies left behind by some humans upon death, and I had also unleashed a guiding spirit of a knight who had been enlisted to assist me with such work.

All that seemed far away and certainly locked deep in the back of my mind as I wrestled with the increasingly powerful and playful winds that rose to meet us as we crested the hills from which Stonehenge’s powerful healing stones had been hewn. Today my mind was focused on the mundane matter of the rip in my hiking boots that were making one foot wet and squelchy.

View across Arthur's Grave to site of the Bluestones

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You may have noticed the lack of podcasts this year on Hedge Druid? There’s a reason for that. In the first half of the year the reason could be put down to a mounting pressure of “work”. Mostly this was spiritual work, and with all the good weather we have had in England this year then the Great Outdoors claimed a large part of my time, and this was reflected in the amount of time-consuming podcast work that I could do. Right, that’s my pathetic excuse out of the way. Now, what about the recent months? I did intend to re-establish the podcast once the weather got worse. It has worsened, but still I don’t feel inclined to get back into the studio to record and edit an hour’s worth of audio. Why not? I think there’s a deeper and wider reason.

I have been noticing that other pagan blogs have also begun to falter in their regularity and their commitment. Could it be that we all expanded too quickly, and pushed ourselves too hard to produce content? Possibly, but I think the real reason is due to a difficulty in maintaining momentum when this year has been out of synchronisation with itself. Let me explain.

The Moon, The Sun and The Earth sources

Last year our blogs flourished. Mostly these are blogs that are talking about magickal work, mystical happenings and spiritual progress. What general effect has happened that could account for the difference between last year’s ease and this year’s difficulty? Simple. It is the synchronisation of the phase of the Moon with the Celtic Festival dates. Last year the high points in the solar cycle were matched by high points in the lunar cycle. In other words, at the major lunar festival dates the Moon was also usually in its Full Moon phase.

Celtic Wheel of the Year

The Celtic Wheel of the Year is a cycle that records the high points of the year’s energies. It tells the pagan watcher when the Earth itself is producing the most energy in its co-operative cycle with The Sun. In my experience, and I speak only for myself here, I do not use The Sun as my primary magickal power source. For me it is The Moon. Last year was therefore a “bumper year” in terms of the number of coincidences between the Solar and Lunar high points. Magick was abundant and easy. Motivation was plentiful, and so a great deal of work flowed, and many posts got produced. Blogs flourished that dealt with these subjects.

This year the story has been completely reversed, and how dispiriting must that have been to many of our pagan friends whose magickal sources are Moon-dependent? This year the Full Moon phases NEVER coincide with any of the Solar Festival dates in the Celtic Year. Only Spring Equinox came close. The result of this, goes my tenuous hypothesis, is that motivation has taken a battering. Magickal people must have found themselves either doing Sun OR Moon work, but never being able to being the two together.

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In the final part of my Autumn Equinox posts from the island of Anglesey I talk about my visit to the wonderful and mysterious mound of Bryn Celli Ddu with my psychic friend Mike. As you might expect given the company I was in this was a different experience than my usual dowsing visits, and I was also able to find out what the next final part of my healing quest would entail for the next few weeks.

Bryn Celli Ddu

We walked the gravelly path to the ancient mound buoyed by expectation. Our visit to Barclodiad Y Gawres had been disappointing, but now the sun was trying to break through the cloud cover, and the wind was easing back from its incessant howl. Of course, as always happens, we passed some visitors heading away from the site as we approached. This is such a busy place!

As we walked down the path I again “noticed” the moss-covered stone at the corner of the final approach path. As we walked round the corner I saw my old friend the ash tree – one of the tree guardians of the site. I paid my respects and passed the time of day without expecting a response. Mike, however, got rejected when he tried a similar approach. I giggled a little at this – this is exactly how Kal started out when he first approached trees – with an expectation of instant friendship. I knew that the road was much longer and tougher to travel than many people expect when it comes to talking to trees.

We began our approach and I mentioned how “spooky” the hawthorn-lined path could be at night. Even in the day it is a little intimidating. Mike said that he felt we were being watched. I stopped and tried to sense the presence too. Oh yes! Now that I turned my 360-degree attention to the entity I could sense there was something watching our progress, and it wasn’ t the tree. Hmm…I made a mental note.

The entrance to Bryn Celli Ddu chamber

Now we rounded the final corner and opened to gate to the site. it was Mike’s first visit and he drew an appropriately large intake of air in a huge gasp of appreciation.

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