The Hedge Druid

Posts Tagged ‘chirk’

After a fun-packed but bone-chilling day on the borders of Shropshire and Powys I was reminded of the town of Chirk as we passed close to it on our return journey. Chirk itself is a lovely town worth a visit but I was more interested in the two ancient oaks that I knew were situated in the village of Pontfadog nearby. It had been several months since my last visit and I had forgotten the name of the village, so we had to stop off in Chirk whilst I found a map and reminded myself of the village name and the way to get there. Once found we were only in the car five minutes before parking to one side of the B-road and crossing the road to join the short track to the ancient oak known as The Oak at the Gate of the Dead.

A gentleman who I will refer to as “The Tree Hunter” told me last year that I should try to stick to one name for this tree. Here’s his advice:

“I have done a lot of work over the last five years to get this ancient tree and many others to be recognised for what they are. Fantastic, historical towers of biodiversity, which as you know have their own aura and personality. This name [The Oak at the Gate of the Dead] has stood us in good stead for playing the media game if you like. I would be very grateful if you could refer to it by this name as there is now some confusion occurring with people calling it the ‘Crogen oak’….I will try to correct all occurrences that I come across for clarity’s sake.”

It was nice to come here to see this ancient oak grove, even in Winter, and that was mostly because Kal hadn’t been here before – I love introducing him to some of the things I find on my own. They are spectacular trees, and they do seem to attract a lot of attention. Last time I was here in late Winter 2010 there were several people milling around the old oaks and marvelling at their grandeur.

The site was all pizazzed up (if that’s a real term) – it had new flash clean colourful informative informational information signs all over the place telling visitors all about how this was a cherished site because it was where the lovely Welsh people saw off the hated English oppressors who wanted to wipe them out. Well, that was the horrid and pointless agenda that Henry the Second to do just that, so that’s good enough reason to celebrate his object failure at this sacred site. There you kind of feel that this would be a good place to gather together your energy for such a fight – the oaks are very protective and giving.

Historic info about battles

I remembered my previous visit to the site early in 2010. I had heard of the impending death of one of the greatest of the oaks – the so-called Oak At The Gate of the Dead (or OATGOD for short) and I wanted to see whether there really was anything special about this tree. As it happened the dowsing rods revealed that there was. Not that I needed the rods to tell me that – I could feel it as I approached the tree – there was a terminal sadness in the midst of a radiant glory. A strange and poignant combination. I remember putting my staff into the centre of the oak’s split core and infusing it with the final remaining energies of the tree.

Today we dowsed for whether there was any remaining energy in the tree. None. It was truly dead in an energetic sense now – there was no “chi” energy and the tree’s dryad had departed. There may still be traces of biological life, but it’s like a human being on a life-support machine – the biological functions are still registering but the brain may be dead. It would be the slow lingering death that trees have as they rot away depositing their physical essence back into the earth thanks to the assistance of time and thousands of insects and fungi.

A sadly un-energetic ancient oak

When I dowsed I found that the dryad from the OATGOD had moved into a neighbouring tree, one that was very much alive and giving off every sign of such – green ivy wrapped itself lovingly around its trunk as though to provide it warmth through the frosts of Winter, and birds dipped in and out of its upper branches as though attending to its every needs.

Playing with a robin

Almost as if underlining this fact a robin chirped loudly as Kal and I stood beneath the new host oak. We looked up to find it was only a few feet away from us, watching us and chirruping at us belligerently – it WOULD have our attention! It was trying to tell us something…we both stopped to listen intently. It was as if…we could…understand its tone. It wanted us to listen. So we did. For a few minutes it spoke to us, telling us about the new tree, “The new tree was the special tree now, the old tree was dead, the whole grove loved the new tree. The spirit lived on.

I got out my phone which has an application on it that plays birdsong. I found the call for a robin and began to play it to the real robin to see how it reacted. At first it seemed wary, but after a couple of goes it began to mimic the calls. Kal and I looked at each other in delighted amusement – in a primitive sort of way we were making some form of communication with this little bird, and we loved the way its call was now less angry sounding and more playful – it was playing with us, repeating the phrases that I made with my phone. We watched the robin flit from branch to branch near us as it observed what we were doing and homed in on the source of this communication in its own tongue. A warm connection between us all made it seem as though we could talk to the robin ourselves and be understood. We stopped teasing it with the phone and thanked it for playing with us. At that point it fluttered its wings and flew off to a nearby tree.

A most living oak with a robin in strong voice

I felt like the spirit of Pan had welcomed us into this ancient oak grove once more. I think that had to be one of the most delightful encounters I have had in a long while. A good start to the year’s outings.

Gwas.

Singing the birdie song

I had heard via the BBC news web site that there was an ancient oak tree that had been split by the sharp cold spell we have had recently in the UK. being a “tree friendly” sort of bloke I was a bit distressed by this, and so decided that I should go and visit it – if only to stroke it and say “Bad luck, old chap!“. From the article it would seem as though some local tree preservation types had made predictions of its impending demise, and this made the visit seem more necessary than mere curiosity.

Before the weekend of the 13th/14th Feb I did some dowsing to see what was awaiting me.

1. Was the split oak irreparably damaged? – YES.
2. Would it die from this damage – YES.
3. Was it going to die in the next few days? – NO.
4. Would it take a few weeks to die – LONGER.
5. Was the energy associated with the tree still present? – YES.
6. Would that energy die off with the tree? – SOONER.
7. Am I able to capture some or all of that energy? – YES, using the Ash Staff.
8. Would the spirit of the tree be around for long? – ONLY DAYS.

Of course I am re-interpeting the results for you. Each of the questions had to be posed such that only a YES 0r NO response could result from it, but the outcome I have re-expressed to demonstrate my line of thinking. Only days left before the energy associated with the tree began to dissipate or leave, eh? Better get there soon!

Off I jolly-well trotted in my ’new’ old car (the trusty old Peugeot is now in the hands of a trusted friend). I was heading for Pontfadog, a village on the outskirts of Chirk town. Chirk is a lovely historic town that I’ve visited before on my motorcycle. It’s the kind of place that keeps history alive, and the place seems to have a special quality about it. It has a lovely castle with large grounds on its edge, and despite having a factory nearby it feels quaint and timeless.

As I drove to Pontfadog I kept getting diverted off the main road. Ooops, I missed the turn-off (despite having SatNav guiding me!). Oh dear, this road is being diverted because of roadworks! Oh, a police car is blocking that road! Another closed road diversion a few miles later. And so it went on and on until I ended up on a tiny back road into Pontfadog village, a road which had those sinuous qualities that one associates with ancient roads that used to be trackways, possibly following male earth energy paths. At various points along this diversion I would encounter a bird of prey sat on a gate-post, or low in a tree, watching me as I passed. This is now becoming a common sign that I am on a special journey, and so I acknowledged each occurrence. It doesn’t do to get your rational brain involved in trying to work this out – just ride with it and take it for what you apprehend it to be!

TIC and Swan Inn - Pontfadog

The Pontfadog Oak

The village of Pontfadog has a relatively new car park next to the bridge over the river than runs alongside the main road. You can’t miss it if you go there. A short walk away is the hub of village activity (well, on a Sunday in Rugby season anyway) – the Swan Inn. What an absolute delight that place is! The landlord was incredibly helpful, and knew his ales from his elbow too. Refreshment had to be quaffed before continuing. Good job I did too because the route up from the back of the inn to the Pontfadog Oak is steep! Ten minutes later I was walking along a path leading to a farm on the Pontfadog hillside that was reputed to contain the oak. Indeed it did, and the farmhouse owners were only too pleased to direct anyone to it.

The most ancient oak in Wales

According to the accompanying plaque at the base of this ancient oak tree:-

“Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II has designated The Pontfadog Oak one of the Great British Trees.”

That’s nice of her. So did one of her predecessors, apparently:

“In Pontfadog lives the oldest oak tree in Britain which was spared when King Henry II had his men cut down the Ceiriog Woods in 1165. Fortunately the woods recovered, as they have done since being permanently covered in dust from the quarrying of the 19th century.” (source: www.ceiriog.co.uk)

I noticed that although the tree was hollow inside, it wasn’t split, so I went back to the people in the farmhouse garden to ask about it. Was this the tree that had split and had been reported about? Oh, no, came the response – that was another ancient tree in the valley. Surely I passed it along the road coming into the village? Well, I might have done, but I suspect my little “detour” had made me miss it. How peculiar! Was I “meant” to visit this tree first? Why?

I had the urge to leave my ash staff alongside the tree. I pretended I was doing this as a measure for my photographs, but actually I wanted to allow the staff to absorb any energies from this mighty tree. I walked its girth, photographed it, and generally stood admiring it until some parents arrived with a troupe of children. Looking like the Von Trappe’s I decided that I should head off to the ‘correct’ tree that I had come to see in the first place!

The Pontfadog Oak - my staff shows size

The Crogen Oak

I had no trouble locating the split tree I had intended to visit. It was just behind a wall on the ‘main’ road into the village, about 200 yards before the Trout Fishery and Shop place. Indeed it stood in marshy boggy ground next to a brackish stream and I began to see how the water could have been responsible for making the tree split.

Th split Crogen Oak

The Crogen Oak – “The Oak at the Gate of the Dead” (or more likely ‘The Oak at The Pass of the Graves’) is so-called because of its association with the Battle of Crogen. One of the trees that witnessed that battle and was spared from being felled was this oak tree, which became the guardian of the dead slain in its presence (is my re-telling of the myth). It has certainly witnessed many things, being estimated to be around 1500 years old.

The tree was certainly attracting a great deal of interest. Whilst I was there two couples with dogs, the parents with the troupe of kids, and various other families with awe-inspired wild-eyes kids were crawling all over the oak, quite literally. I tried to connect to the tree but it was far to noisy and the tree was too old for me to do so successfully in those circumstances. Instead I contented myself with the feeling that I could place the ash staff in its heart. The dowsing rods confirmed this for me. If I left it there then something magickal would happen (if I intended it). Which I did!

Empowering the ash staff

I thought I should probably put some crystals around the tree to focus the energy. Or light some incense too, perhaps? I asked the rods about the crystals. NO. Oh! What about incense? Hmmm. A quite inconclusive answer. I decided to try anyway and got some prepared for lighting, but then couldn’t find my new windproof lighter that I had just recently filled with gas. What? How?…never mind. Abandon ship! I asked the dowsing rods if I needed them anyway – NO. Why hadn’t I just asked that to start with?

I circled the tree three times clockwise to charge up the staff, for some reason tuoching the tree all the way around as I passed under its split bough and low-hanging branches. As I walked around, thinking about the staff taking on the energies of the tree, I noticed some lovely white snowdrops pushing their way through the tangle of dry grass stalks that matted the surrounding land. How delightful – signs of Spring appearing – I felt much better already.

A hint that Spring is not far away

Finally, I reclaimed my staff and walked up the nearby hillside to see what was round about. I passed more old oak trees and realised that this area was rife with ancient shrubbery and arboriality. I asked the rods one final question – had the ash staff absorbed anything from the tree? YES. Good.

I drove home and later got the rods out again to find out more about what the staff had taken on board. After a good number of questions had been batted away I came across the answer: the staff now had a name! It had been given a name by the energy of that old dying oak tree! How wonderful. I set about finding the name, and soon had it. Things are already getting more interesting this year.

Gwas.

I have added two of the oldest oaks in Wales to the Trees page. Both of them are in poor condition and we may lose either or both of them soon, so I would urge you to go and visit them if you can. They are both near the wonderful historic town of Chirk, which is well worth a visit on its own. I was made aware of the plight of the tree by this article: BBC news item.

How much longer will they be here?

The village of Pontfadog is delightful, and I highly recommend the Swan Inn for a nice drink. All that, and wonderful old trees too!
Gwas.