Posts Tagged ‘beech tree’

Making a Summer Nemeton

I set off on what I expected to be a simple walk in the evening sun, taking advantage of the last warmth of a wonderful weekend for weather. By the gods that warmth was welcome after the latest and coldest Spring in thirty years! For some reason I was compelled to walk along the sandstone ridges that a nearby to the village where I live. Pictures and memories of a special place kept arising in my mind like bubbles in a champagne glass. One particular ridge walk came to mind so I got out of the car and checked which direction I should head in using dowsing rods. The way I had pictured in my mind was the direction indicated to follow. What about the destination? Yes, the one I was thinking of was the most appropriate for any meditative work. Great – then I scarcely needed the rods so I put  them away.

As I began my walk I was still believing that firstly this has been my rational idea, and that it was simply a walk. I’d even brought a book to read and a can of gin and tonic. My everyday self was walking around with the idea that I was just going for some kind of a light summer picnic or something. My druid self had other ideas that were bubbling under the surface, and the more I climbed the sandstone path the more these druidic senses began to make themselves heard.

As if by the same magick that was bubbling through this evening I am currently listening to “Ouses ;Ouses ‘Ouses‘ narrated by John Copper (Imagined Village).

In this song the narrator is talking about his granddad having his ashes sprinkled on his spot with his favourite view up on the chalk hills of The Downs. By an odd coincidence that leads me into this story.

I walked up onto the sandstone hill through freshly unfurling stalks of bracken, shaded from the remaining rays of the day by the bright-leaved canopies of giant beeches, ancient oaks and sapling birches. The path was easy for me to read. I’d been that was many times over the years, but I only ever seem to visit when the summer comes. I don’t know why. This time felt different, and I was about to find out why.

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Lough Key – The Search for the Eel Sword

We couldn’t get into Boyle Abbey before 10am. No-one seems to get up early in Southern Ireland! It was 9am when we arrived there, so I decided to show Kal Lough Key Forest Park which was close by. It might be open and it would be a pleasant walk amongst some trees while we waited for the abbey to open. I had been there once before with M on our only Ireland holiday together. Seemed like a good plan to while away an hour. Turned out to be slightly longer than that!

Lough Key

Lough Key is a forest park. Is that a forest that contains a park or some parkland with a bit of forest? I’m never sure. Be one thing or another, I say. In terms of the name of the lake, Wikipedia suggests it has druidic connections:

Lough Key (Irish: Loch Cé) is a lake in Ireland. It is located in the northwest of County Roscommon, northeast of the town of Boyle. The lough’s name is believed to come from Cé, a druid; the lake was formed over his grave.

Whether by chance or be subliminal design I appeared yet again to be in the right place suited to my quest.

We parked easily and because the visitor centre wasn’t open (of course – before 10am?) we made use of the excellent relieving facilities (Kal rated them highly) before we thought about finding somewhere that we “should be”. The dowsing rods were our first stop for an answer to an esoteric question like that. When I asked the question the rods quite clearly led across a grassy field towards the middle of nowhere. Typical. Still, having nothing better to do we followed – all the way up to the point where they swerved around an old and glorious beech tree.

We both sat at respective positions beneath the tree and I began to look around. What a wonderful day! How beautiful the park is! How perfectly the tree’s hoary branches framed the delicate Spring flowers and mosses that lived in their protective cloak, and how dappled the sunlight was as it filtered through the lightly-leaved branches of the beech. Soon I was drifting away…drifting into one of my light druidic trances where my heart soars and my mind relaxes into communion with the surroundings….

Kal in a special place at Lough Key Forest Park

A vision appeared to me – the same sword-fight that I had seen the previous day at Carrowkeel. There was more detail this time. I could clearly see the protagonist – so much so that I knew I would recognise him if I ever saw him again, in a dream or in reality. I knew not which it would be yet, but I was sure our meeting was inevitable, like the inevitability that a thread will unravel a garment in intricate weaving.

Now the visions faded and was replaced by a spoken phrase that I didn’t understand at all. The sword I had seen in the vision, the sword that I was holding, it was given a name. Something told me that it was called The Eel Sword, and that I had to now find a sword that looked like an eel. This made no sense. What madness was this? Why did I need an eel sword? Where the heck would I find such a thing? Reality re-imposed itself and the connection wavered then released its trance-like grip on my senses as they re-absorbed the beautiful Spring sunshine and the fabric of greens that made up the forest park’s lush landscape.

Where was this sword? Here? The dowsing rods confirmed it even as I began to position them horizontally in preparation. It was here , somewhere.

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The Beech of Clumber Park

This is the first of a few posts telling you about my trip to the beautiful county of Nottingham. You may remember that I had dowsed using rods and map to find a location in which I could spend a few days of peace and quiet. The dowsing rods had done me a good turn. Hold on - I must stop saying it’s the rods themselves. The rods are an extension of an interaction between myself and my guiding spirits, with whom I have forged a psychic relationship. There. That’s better. Now you understand how I view this dowsing activity.

Before going to Creswell Crags I decided to have a relaxing walk in a forest that the landlady of my hotel had recommended – Clumber Park. Dowsing had suggested that I should be at Creswell Crags closer to midday, rather than in the morning. Clumber Park was very close by, so it was no bother to go visit it. I found it easily, and it was free to enter and to park when I got there (although there is usually a charge).

Clumber Park is a National Trust estate and so is consequently well organised and well kept. It was my intention simply to wander around for a while to acclimatise to the energies of the place, and to breathe in the warm late Winter fresh air – clear out my lungs and enliven the blood.

Clumber Park in February

The estate is large, and once I had found the car park I began to wander around, feeling for a direction to walk in. The spire of the church nearby pulled me towards it. One of the signs promised peacefulness and this drew me in. The chapel was impressive from the outside – much bigger than you would expect for a chapel that must have served a s very small congregation. Interestingly, its dedication was to “Our Lady“. An indication to me that it was hedging its bets as to whether that was Mary or some other natural female deity.

I couldn’t dowse around inside because the building was closed for Winter refurbishment, but the surrounding trees made me feel welcome anyway, and I wandered off towards the stretched-out lake to watch the swans taking off and landing. The swans’ wings made the oddest rhythmic sound which captivated me for many minutes. Oh, the luxury of time – time enough to let oneself fall into the arms of Nature to feel her heart beating!

The Chapel of Our Lady, Clumber Park

Peach of a Beech

As I wandered away from the lakeside something made itself known to me and I began to walk in the direction of the ‘tug’ – the mental feeling that something was calling to me. Within minutes I was walking up a small mound of shrubs and trees to discover a huge beech tree on the top of the rise. I wasn’t surprised, but instead delighted.

I spent a few minutes in meditation with the tree, and asked how we might interact together. My suggestion was to rebalance my chakras using the tree’s helpful energies, in return for me providing the tree with as much growth energy as I could muster. I set to work generating some energy from a combination of my heart and sacral chakras and provided them to the tree’s roots. In return I felt the tree go to work on my aura, and after it had finished I felt rather good. This might be a useful preparation for things to come later, I thought to myself.

As I said my thanks to the tree, I heard in my mind “Good work, young Druid“. That was a nice touch. Young? Not how I would describe myself, but relative to the tree I suppose I was. And in terms of my druid knowledge – certainly in my youth there.

A majestic beech tree in Clumber Park

I was now feeling balanced and prepared for the day ahead. I seemed to have all the energy I could need. The recovery process was off to a great start. Now it was time to visit the caves at the crags and an unexpected meeting with an Earth Spirit, which I will report in my next post.

Gwas.

Alderley Edge – consternation and confirmation

This year begins much as last year began, except that the world has turned throughout hundreds of spins and travelled once around our major light source to measure out a year in its dizzy cycle. Our wavering Moon has ebbed and flowed with the tides over those long months and has lit our path on many occasions. One eveningin Alderley Edge forest we began the new year with a need to be amid the imposing ancient trees and to be bathed in moonlight. Luckily, sister moon is out and doing her best to cast a companion cool light on our foolhardy journey.

Consternation

As we struggled to remember what clothing or paraphernalia we might need or indeed had actually brought, Kal mentioned that he hadn’t brought a light because he knew I would. I retorted that I hadn’t brought a light either, but I couldn’t remember why. It seemed like I wouldn’t need one when I packed. Kal became anxious and reminded me that his night vision capabilities were the least of his talents and that he didn’t want a repeat experience of the midnight prowl he took in the forest last year. I feared that would be exactly what we were in store for, but insisted that we go in anyway. I could feel his hesitancy.

Once inside the bounds of the woodland, with the white and orange familiar street lighting fading far behind us, I remained buoyant – there seemed to be enough light for us to make safe progress if we stuck to the main paths. Did we ever stick to the main path? Not often, but tonight we might have to! Amid Kal’s consternation and our idle chat I stopped. What had stopped me, I wondered? Years of experience with these things now made me realise I had stopped for a reason. I scanned around in the dim light and recognised the pale white reflections of five or six dog-sized stones, too smooth and regular to be a stone circle made by ancient hands. Indeed, we were stood by the folly stone circle created at the turn of the last century. Older than most parts of America, but young enough for the dog-stones to seem like mere pups compared to the hoary old stones of the bigger and more hidden monuments.

Confirmation

The folly stone circle was a good indicator. It is raised slightly above the main path and catches your eye as you walk along, if you have the right attention because it was very dark in there that evening. We were only seconds away from the elderly beech tree that held the very spirit of the forest in the confines of its branches and roots. Perhaps I had even been stopped in my tracks by sensing the edge of its giant aura? Kal abandoned his cursory dowse of the circle (because there’s little to dowse) and we made our way to stand underneath the gigantic boughs of this majestic patriarch.

The Spirit of Alderley Edge

Kal gave the tree an affectionate welcome and then wandered off into the lower extremities on a mission of his own devising. For me, I needed to confirm some things that I had learned during the Winter Solstice, but which I found difficult to accept could have been the result of a mystical experience simply because Calgary Airport didn’t feel much like the sort of place that one would expect a mystical moment to occur. I wanted to confirm my findings with a more reliable interlocutor.

Having spent many moments with this tree it was a relatively simple affair to make contact again. Despite his being energetically handicapped by the Winter months I could feel his hidden and dormant depths almost immediately and I approached a connection with humility and respect for his power. He does, after all, hold sway over a very large and ancient forest. It like being able to see the beauty of a woman beneath her winter clothing layers. Some things just shine through despite being buried.

I introduced myself to him again, asking him whether he remembered me and if he could see how far I had come since my last visit there. But I was being hasty and needed to calm down and connect properly before I got a recognisable response. I went quiet and tuned into the forest, letting my attention spread out even as I sent a cycle of energy around me to protect myself from anything in the forest that might be attracted by my expending energy field. You see – I had learned something! Once again I thought back to that small man who had once followed M and me through the forest asking me about magic and warning me that I needed protection in this line of work. At the time I had dismissed his ideas as unnecessary – now I was more experienced.

Once in a quiet state of grace with the tree I asked whether I could confirm something that was on my mind. The tree gave a gentle tug at my energy field as though to invite my question. I projected the thoughts outwards to the tree:-

  1. Please confirm that it was my current quest to write a book – correct
  2. I had until February to get a draft written – correct
  3. The subject of the book should be “service” – correct

Hmmm….better get writing!

I finally asked the tree whether I could be directed to a place in the forest where I could commune with my Spirit Guide to ask her the same questions. The tree seemed to shake oh-so-gently with laughter. I knew he had not taken this as an insult, but rather had seen how unnecessary it was and how insecure I was being. nevertheless he made my head turn to face one part of the forest – it was the direction in which my power centre lay. I asked if that was correct and got a louder rumbling of deep laughter. Always I needed confirmation, he seemed to be saying. ‘Poor child. Come so far, but still so young.’

Keeping dry at Alderley Edge

When Kal returned we set off through the forest going via the main paths towards my power centre. I knew the way in the daylight by the hidden paths, but I only had an inner compass and the guidance of the things of the forest as we ventured off the main paths finally and on towards somewhere I vaguely recognised. Even in the depths of the forest, off the paths, there was a welcome dark blue background that seemed to shed enough light not to get a poke in the eye from a branch, or trip on a tree root or stone. Before we knew it I found us a sensible entrance to the place that had become both a power centre for both of us over the last year (even though we came to it entirely independently at first!).

At the power centre I lit some incense, as did Kal. We stood side by side, together in our own worlds. I connected with the forest and with my spirit guide and went in search of validation. Was i correct in everything I had been told about writing a book? I felt the presence of my spirit guide as i called her. She is my teacher and mentor now, and when she answers my call I do her the courtesy of listening. No questions were needed – she knew what I was asking. Instead she plainly and simply re-iterated all that I had heard before from the tree….but there was something else. She also showed me that the subject matter of the book – service – would become the defining framework within which I would do my best work this year.

Now I understood. I thanked the trees and the forest generally, and disconnected, but kept my protection up. As we walked back towards the car along paths we knew well we chatted about our experiences, and about how comfortable we both felt inside a deep dark forest. How times had changed over the course of a few years and how much we were looking forward to the surprises, the challenges and the rewards that this year might bring. Every year the world gets more interesting!

Gwas. Longing for leaves.

Mitchells Fold – Location, location, location

Kal has already posted on this visit so I’m not going to repeat any of what he has said, but I am going to add my own particular report  of what I did and what I found out at Mitchell’s Fold stone circle because it leads me into the New Year nicely.

I sub-titled this post “Location, location, location” for a couple of reasons. Later in the post I will talk about the effects of nearby megaliths on local residents, but I also wanted to draw attention to the delightful location of many of the remaining megalithic structures of this country. Whether in the depths of Winter or the height of Summer being at these sites stimulates the soul in a deep fashion. Mitchell’s Fold stone circle in particular is blessed with a stunning location fenced by the imposing Corndon Hill, yet having distant views to Wales. I recommend going out of your way to visit it if you can.

Of course, if you DO visit in Winter then be prepared for an interesting journey. I navigated the car along the smallest of roads and the most treacherous compacted snow and was thankful that I now drove an all-wheel drive car. There is no way the little blue Peugeot would have made this trip! No way at all. Thus we have managed to extend the site visits to almost all year round now, which I am thankfully well equipped for after my Canadian expedition.

Gwas shields from a biting wind behind the tallest menhir at Mitchells Fold

The smell of birth and death

Wrapped from head to toe in warm and woolly gear I stifled a chuckle at Kal’s brave attempts to stave off the bitter winds that whipped up across the plateau upon which Mitchell’s Fold stone circle is perched. It was indeed a day for being quite specific about your dowsing questions – formulating them in your head then hurriedly removing gloves and doing the necessary connection with the divine knowledge source that is Nature.

The first thing I needed to do, I determined, was to mark the passing of two of my closest neighbours – one a human, one a tree. One of our favourite neighbours, old Dolly, had died whilst I was on holiday in Canada. This was not unexpected given how she had been in and out of hospital for weeks with heart problems, yet I felt a tremor of sadness nevertheless. Also while I was away the proposed destruction of the beloved beech tree that stood in our immediate neighbour’s front garden but which we had come to think of as ours too – this also went ahead. In a way I knew it while I was away. It had been on the cards – we knew it was coming. Yet, there was a pang of sadness one late evening that I couldn’t account for. I put it down to being stranded at Calgary airport, but I think it was a strand of nature’s web that was linked to me being stirred by the demise of either or both of my two homely connections. This was indeed a bitter Winter in so many ways.

I might have known I would have trouble lighting the four incense sticks for the tree and another four for Dolly. I huddled with a cheap lighter for ten minutes before they were all lit, and then had to re-visit the double square formation placed on a suitable power centre several times as the wind insisted on making the sticks go out on a regular basis. I only lightly grumbled, supposing that the effort was not wasted if it was going towards this mark of respect and mourning.

As I struggled back and forth breathing in the frankincense aroma I caught the irony of the scent at this time of year, and how it had come to mark the birth of a saviour, just as I was marking two deaths. Birth and death come to close together in the cycle.

A watery sun over Corndon Hill seen from Mitchells Fold

The Yule part of the year

When I asked for advice from my spirit guidance about what I might turn my attentions to for the next part of the year I was told to “Write a book!. Now I have to call upon some muses to work out what it should be about, or to get the motivation to write it. I have 5 weeks until February 1st! The first draft needs to be complete by then.

I wonder about this “guidance”. When I had been thinking about the lunar eclipse as a form of death of the year/moon I asked for guidance and got the response “Celebrate death“. Recently my father had asked me about how my book was coming along. I told him I’d be writing it this year. Next thing – my ‘guidance’ is saying “Write a book“. Hmmm…I am deeply suspicious that these short phrases are just my subconscious bubbling up a task in answer to my request for one. The Fates say a first draft needs to be ready by February! I’d better get typing….so I’ve made a start but it’s not likely to be done in any way, shape or form by February. Maybe if I get the concept formulated?

Maen Beuno – or is that Mean Beuno?

Saint bleeding Beuno gets everywhere in North Wales! He has a cave up near to Bodfari, an abbey on the Lyn Peninsula, and so many other namesake places and objects that he seems to pop up everywhere we go. So it was no surprise that when we scanned around the area on our way back home from Shropshire, close to the town of Welshpool, we found St.Beuno’s stone marked on the iMegalith app.

We decided to visit this stone because it looked easy to get to, and having seen how impossible it was to reach the yew tree we had planned to visit earlier (due to snow) we thought this was a good decision. Now I find that if we had ventured just a mile further into the town of Berriew we could have visited another Beuno stone AND an old yew tree at the same time. Oh, the irony!

The official line on the stone

It was easy to find (compared to many sites listed on that app) but the henge that it mentioned as being nearby was now merely the slightest of raised bumps in fields covered in snow. No henge now – but there was a stone and it had a snow-covered placard, so we stopped close by and skated over to the stone to check it out,

The stone is predominantly surrounded in male energy with only the slightest female energy. The shape alone indicated that it would be male – it has sharp edges and a square shape that goes into a point at the top. It is linked to a power centre that Kal discovered as being in the centre of the road that the stone stood next to, He also dowsed that it had been moved from its original location, but had been replaced on a place that had some earth energy – so it was a ‘knowledgeable’ move by someone long ago. This kind of thing is rarely considered these days by people who move megaliths around because they are “in the way”.

St Beuno gets everywhere - even down small lanes

The interest thing we discovered was sparked by an observation we made as we drove down the lane. There is a cluster of houses, probably only eight along the lane. At least three of the houses had “For Sale” signs up outside them, and we thought that was a disproportionate ratio. So, we began to ask about whether there was any link between the stone and its human neighbours. After a while we discovered that the energies of the stone were overwhelmingly pagan, and that St.Beuno had been pagan too – later gathered into the sainthood of Christianity for their own purposes of adopting local notable figures as their own. This is our contention, and we explain our reasons below.

St Beuno’s strong energies were in this stone, and they were for some reason incompatible with the people who lived in the houses that were up for sale. Whether they realised it or not, they were being “forced” out of their homes due to this incompatibility between their energy fields and those that this stone was emitting. Of course, this is pure speculation, but that’s the conclusion we arrived at by careful questioning of the dowsing rods over the stone.

I later did a bit of digging on the background of St.Beuno to verify how true this idea might be. Here’s what I found out about him:-

“Beuno was born in Powys, supposedly at Berriew, the grandson of a prince of that realm. After education and ordination in the monastery of Bangor-on-Dee in north-east Wales, he became an active missionary, Cadfan, King of Gwynedd, being his generous benefactor. Cadwallon, Cadfan’s son and successor, deceived Beuno about some land and, when the saint demanded justice, proved unsympathetic. Thereupon, Cadwallon’s cousin Gwyddaint, in reparation, “gave to God and Beuno forever his township” of Clynnog Fawr in the Llŷn peninsula, where the saint founded a famous abbey.

Beuno became the guardian and restorer to life of his niece, the virgin Saint Gwenffrewi (Winefride; in modern English Winifred). He was relentless with hardened sinners, but full of compassion to those in distress. Before his death at Clynnog “on the seventh day of Easter” he had a wondrous vision.” (source Wikipedia)

A vision, eh? Very shamanic. I venture to suggest that his education may have been along the lines of many of the royal household in that area – schooled in the druidic teachings of the Western Mystery Schools. His celebration (or ‘Feast’) day is April 21st. That date in the pagan calendar is Parilia, described by the Pagan Calendar site as

“…a festival for protection and fertility for farms”. (source: Pagan Calendar).

St Beuno is also associated with the fertility and good health of farm animals. Coincidence again. This Beuno bloke begins to have echoes of former pagan celebrations – I wonder if his spirit was co-opted to ingratiate him with the farming community? Beuno is also listed on the Megalithic Portal due to some very old standing stones at his abbey on the Lyn Peninsula. I venture to suggest it was sited on an ancient pagan site. So I think it’s about time we paid his home territory to see what we can find out about Beuno and his possible pagan leanings.

Gwas.

Hedge on The Edge

Alderley Edge, Cheshire – Tuesday, September 7th, 2010

Another tale to tell of a fun visit to the magical forest at AlderleyEdge. You may see that we have both been visiting this forest recently. Firstly, Kal spent a night there (my word – how scary is that?) and then went back to find his lost dowsing rod. I have been there recently too, and although I wasn’t expecting anything unusual to happen, I just went for a pleasant walk, really, but it ended up being a very profound experience.

First thing that I did on entering the forest was to pay my respects and check I was welcome to come and do some energy work. This has become a routine for me now on entering a forest, especially one as powerful as The Edge. I felt a slight tug at my navel chakra and a sense of happiness, so I walked in with a little bow of respect. Seems silly, but believe me, it pays to have some respect for the old large trees, because they have a wealthof knowledge that can be tapped into with either dowsing rods or a bit of deep meditation.

I decided not to use my dowsing rods to find the first place I should go to. I wanted to try to find something without them for once. I began to walk in whatever direction felt right, and I noticed that I was walking in a kind of snaking path, weaving slightly side to side along identifiable paths, then also through the middle of the forest itself where there were no paths. Within minutes I was disoriented, and didn’t really know where I was heading, but it didn’t matter. Something would happen, I hoped. A few minutes later I arrived at the end of a ravine where a small path dipped into the hollow. I recognised the hollow as I got to it – this was where my power centre was, but I had come at it by a totally different approach and so didn’t recognise it! Happily, I bounced into the hollow and took up my place in my preferred power centre.

Once seated I lit four sticks of incense and tuned into the forest. Initially a bird was annoyed at my presence. I communed with it and told it that this was my place too, and that I meant no disturbance. It calmed down. Then I tuned into the forest fully. It only took five minutes before a squirrel was hopping along the nearby branches and across the ground. Then a rabbit came out and began to forage only ten feet away from me. My protective shield was clearly working! I had four sticks of incense lit, AND I was wearing a brightly coloured t-shirt. Somehow, these shy animals were okay with that!

Map of Alderley Edge forest paths and places

After some time I called and tuned into my spirit helper to ask about how I could go about making magic manifest here. I asked if it was possible to alter a digital photograph as evidence of making magic manifest. She responded that it was possible, but only with her co-operation. I couldn’t do it alone. Strangely, the response was accompanied by a rendition of The Can Can music! So, she was on playful form today, huh? Good, because it made me laugh too. I would try to make that photograph experience happen soon and see if anything…developed (ha ha)?

In that trance I was told to go fr0m my power centre straight to the Father of the Forest – the huge beech tree that dominates the forest with its fifty feet wide branches and imposing spread, whereupon I should pay my respects. Also, I was shown that I should link this beech tree to the one at the front of my house, whose heart had been cut out of it a couple of years ago by some stupid telephone company workers who were trying to prevent the tree from ever touching their phone wires. With this directive I set off, again without dowsing rods, in a vain attempt to locate the tree. I had only a vague notion that it might be in one particular cardinal direction, so I set off that way.

Getting lost again I trusted to this intuitive guiding principle that was like following a dowsing rod but not having one to watch in my hands. Minutes later I emerged at the fake stone circle, and from there the beech tree was visible. Incredible! Five minutes wandering through the undergrowth and amazingly I had found the tree in this huge forest of twisting paths and dense foliage. At the beech tree I did some work touching the tree and asking for his spirit to visit my beech tree. I saw in my mind a double vortex of energy spiralling inside my beech tree’s missing heart. When I felt the work was done I asked to know where to go next and was shown a trough of water, and then a quiet secluded place further out into the forest after that. That sounded too impossible to trust to intuition again, so this time I got my rods out and began to follow them. Besides, it was slightly draining to use intuition alone, I felt. Who knew how far I might have to walk this time? Miles?

Unbelievably I walked directly to the water trough! It was less than two minutes away. There I gathered some water as it dripped from the moss on the stone beneath a tree. I drank it and washed in it and felt much better – it was still warm for the time of year. There felt like nothing else to do here except to thank the water spirits, which I did, then set off with the rods again to find this next place on my little quest. I followed the rods blindly in a direction I had never been before. I put my trust in the rods even though they took me across a very steep slope! I climbed for less than a minute before a hole in a rock wall appeared before me. The rods indicated I needed to go IN! It was steep, full of leaves, and smelt damp. I wasn’t sure but the rods insisted when I asked them again and again whether this was the right place.

Mole - hole - goal

Inside the hole I felt my aura being constrained.I put my trust in the experience and let go. Tentacle threads came out of me in the only directions they could go – up! The threads were being powered by me drawing up earth energy from the ground. I found that I could direct the threads to wherever I wanted them to go, and soon I was pushing them out into the forest above, where one of them hit a tree. As it did so I found that the sensations, the feelings and the viewpoint of the tree became my own. I could see out from the tree, and I could feel the wind stirring me as though I were a tree!

I experimented next with pushing the tentacles up into the sky and connected to a passing bird. Now I was flying over the forest getting an aerial view, and suddenly diving towards a tree where I landed on a branch. Something didn’t feel right, so I took off again and there was a whirl of branches and leaves and I was airborne again. I disconnected and withdrew the tentacles. Yes, I had control of pushing them out and taking them back in again, and it was all down to being in a confined space and from drawing upon earth energy as it spiralled upwards in this place of power. I climbed out of the hole astonished at this amazing experience, and a little disconcerted by it. I had learned a valuable lesson about how to project my energy, and how to gain shamanic sight through inhabiting other bodies.

Finally, I was led by the rods through the forest (again, not by a path of any sort) to suddenly emerge into the place that housed by power centre. The rods turned on top of my power centre to indicate clearly that there was something I needed to do here. I tuned in and felt that something was missing – it was. I had taken the incense sticks that I lit last time I was here and had put them around the huge beech tree. I needed to replace them. I lit two sticks and gave thanks to all the spirit energies that had helped me have these experiences.

As the sun fell below the tree tops and hid behind a cloud I made my way home. Another incredible experience at The Edge. That forest truly is magical.

Gwas.

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