The Hedge Druid

Posts Tagged ‘red dragon’

I was doing some research into the ancient hill fort of Dinas Emrys, and found this excellent and comprehensive re-telling of the story of the foundation and inhabiting of Dinas Emrys taken from Puffin children’s book “A Book of Dragons” edited by Roger Lancelyn Green (pages 68-73).

The hill has become special to me, being renowned as Merlin’s Castle, and it is a place where I recently connected to the spirit of Merlin again to re-invigorate my campaign to re-energise the failing parts of the energy grid of these ancient lands in which I roam.

Here is the story….

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The Red Dragon of Wales

In the days before Caesar conquered Britain there lived a king called Lludd who built himself a city in the south-east of the island, set about it a wall with towers and gates, and named it after himself, Caer Lludd – which the Romans called Londinium and the Saxons London. And in today’s city Ludgate is still called after that ancient king.

Lludd ruled peacefully for many years. But not long before the first coming of the Romans, many strange evils fell upon the land: and among them was

‘a shriek that came on every May-eve, over every hearth in the Island of Britain. And this went through people’s hearts, and so scared them, that the men lost their hue and their strength, and the women their children, and the young men and the maidens lost their senses, and all the animals and trees and the earth and the waters were left barren.’

‘And thereupon King Lludd felt great sorrow and care, because he knew not how he might be freed from this plague. And he called to him all the nobles of his kingdom, and asked counsel of them what they should do against this affliction. And by the common counsel of the nobles, Lludd the son of Beli went to Llevelys his brother, king of France, for he was a man of great counsel and wisdom, to seek his advice.’

King Llevelys was indeed wise beyond all men living at that time. For after a little he was able to tell his brother both the cause of that terrible shriek, and how he might set free the Island of Britain from it.

King Lud and assorted progeny

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Dinas Emrys, Gwynedd, Wales – 23rd October 2010.

Now we come to the crux of the matter – the culmination of my Samhain preparations. I had cut, cured and carved a wand made of rowan in preparation for this visit to Dinas Emrys, the legendary castle of Merlin. Here I was expecting to involve the shade of King Arthur in guiding me through an Underworld journey to revive the Spirit of Merlin. What would happen beyond that? I didn’t know. What were the consequences of doing this? Another mystery. All I knew was that this was my path to follow by going with the flow of the universe. This was..for want of a less hackneyed term..my current ‘destiny’.

I pondered my encounter with Merlin - myth, fiction, daydream?

The title of this post refers to the second line of a three-line riddle, or ‘tercet’ to give it its more accurate name, If you remember, the riddle went: “Strong red / Lower Merlin’s rowan/ Second Llanddeiniiol (or stone) church“.

We parked at the bottom in a nearby lay-by and cross the road looking for an entrance. When I have been here before it has been dark and I have been in a hurry, so I have missed the obvious five-bar iron gate entrance. We climbed in and took to the path running along the bottom of the steep ridge, running parallel with the River Glaslyn opposite. Kal had spotted what looked like a cave from the road and soon we had found it again. Indeed it was a small cave, big enough to squeeze two people into, so we both shuffled in. It was very hospitable, although when Kal lay down he felt uncomfortable. From beneath him he reached round and pulled out a hand-sized quartz rock. I took it from him and pointed out how it looked like a perfect replica of the shape of the Dinas Emrys hillitself. I felt this was significant so I asked if I could keep hold of the rock. After some persuasion Kal agreed and I put it into my pack for later. Remember this bit – it will re-appear as a perfect example of how dowsing works later.

The weather was acting strangely. All around us there seemed to be layers of grey-purple bruised cloud pending with rain, yet shafts of sun also filtered through the trees on the slope. Again I wondered if Kal was destined to get soaked. Again I was wrong – somehow he survived with only a few light and brief showers whilst out in the open. It seemed surreal how he managed to avoid the elements.

Red and white dragons tussling

The Pool of the Dragons

On the way up we paused at the mid-section platform – an area of flat land that may have once been a track for carts to bring goods up the hill, or for builders to bring materials up the slope. Now it was full of decaying trees and mossy rubble. We set out first goal to be to find the pool within which the two dragons – the red and the white – were supposed to have fought [I will soon post the best account of the story that I have found, but if you need a quick reminder here's an introduction].

For some reason I wandered farther along the plateau than I ever had before and stood by some ruined mossy stones and bent tree trunks – something has pulled me here. Kal began to search for the pool using his dowsing rods and the rods lead him to the far end of the structure at which I was standing. “Here it is.” he said assuredly. I got my rods out and circled quickly back on myself right to where Kal was standing. Yep, I got the same.

Was this really the much-vaunted mythical pool? It didn’t look anything like the pictures I had seen of it. We were both sure we were correct, though. Very strong dowsing reactions, and … something else said it was correct too – a magical sense, an intuition that we have both been developing seemed to add to the conviction.

The site of the dragon well

So now it was time to climb up onto the upper reaches, to pass by the ‘sentinel’ trees that guard the site, and to finally venture into the Underworld to meet Merlin’s spirit. I think I physically gulped at the prospect. Everything over the last year had built to this point and it felt .. important. I was ready – we ascended.

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This is the third part of the story of my recent pil;grimage to Glastonbury. “Pilgrimage” – that’s what I’m calling these visits because that’s how I feel about them – they are modern-day pilgrimages to a “site of special spiritual interest”, to adopt and mutate the SSSI designation. Glastonbury itself recognises this and has a Pilgrimage Centre where people can go to get information about places to visit and what’s on – sort of like a Tourist Information Centre for Seekers.

So, in the last parts I told you how I sloughed off the energetic attachment of a trickster spirit, got a surprise at a crop circle, then took two trips up the Tor trying to totally tune my tantra. That’s not strictly accurate, but it was the only synonym I could find that was alliterative! I was in the process of working on my heart chakra – the chakra os assimilation, integration, love, emotion and…well, here’s what one site says:

“According to contemporary buddhist teacher Tarthang Tulku, the heart chakra is very important for the feeling of existential fulfillment” (source: Sensagent Dictionary)

‘Existential fulfillment’, huh? Well, I’m pretty fulfilled in that respect, being a trainee druid. So, the day before I had watched the sun set on the horizon from The Tor and this morning I set out with Kal to see where I would end up. There were no plans except a starting point – them’s the rules. Our starting point this day would be the “entrance portals” that are the Gog and Magog trees (now sadly, only one remains).

Guardians of The Entrance: Gog and Magog

No time was wasted this morning – we knew, after last year’s visit, exactly how to get to the trees. It was early (i.e. before tour buses arrived) so all was quiet, even on the campsite next to the ancient oaks. Kal hovered around outside while I clambered into the nettle-strewn glade that forms a triangular cordon around the trees. I was taken aback at how much the first tree (Gog apparently) had paled and depreciated in the last year since she had been burned on the inside by some ardent “worshipper” and his zealous candle. I’m sure there were vestiges of life last year. This year he was totally barren and crumbling fast. It was quite dis-heartening to see.

The legendary and dead Gog Oak tree

Luckily, although I felt the waves of trauma and sadness coming from his partner Magog, she was in decent health. In her hollow I placed the two things I possessed that had a healing energy: a special slice of rose-coloured crystal that I had been given as a gift specifically to use for heart chakra work, and my ash staff. How the giver of this crystal had known I was going to do such work is beyond me, but that’s another story. Alongside the crystal I put my staff in the bole too. I placed my hands on the gnarled bark of the tree and, after the waves of anguish had ebbed away I put some loving energy into the tree. She was clearly pining (or is it “oaking”?), and it seemed like the only thing I could do that wasn’t a selfish act. I wasn’t here to take this time – I was here to give.

Three is a magic number

Oh yes it is. Good things come in trees {sic} so having passed between the trees as a starting point to my morning’s processional way I rejoined Kal and we headed up the slope towards the ever-present Tor in the distance. This would be the third time in two days we would climb the Tor, and each time the energies, the feelings and the results were different. Today was no exception.

The climb up the Tor was straightforward, although again, I felt the need to do it in bare feet. Again, we went up the quick way, up the steepest slope at the ‘back’ of the Tor. Once on top Kal went off doing his stuff, dowsing and meditating for his own ends. I dowsed to find the best place for me to work with my heart chakra energies, and to commune with the Spirit of the Tor to know what I should do for the next part of the year’s cycle. This was my intention this morning – no messing about! Straight to the ‘heart’ of the matter!

It was only a matter of a few minutes before things began to happen. I had stilled myself, then sent my attention deep into the Tor and outwards up into the skies above, creating a channel between the two. I felt a deep rumbling from within the depths of the Tor! It was only slight, but it was palpable. Something was stirring! Was it within me, or within the earth? What was it that was awakening? Through my deep connection I felt the urge to stand and move to the doorway of St.Michael’s Tower – the building on the Tor’s summit. I was standing now in the Michael and Mary Line, the Great Dragon Line, the strongest ley line int he country that runs across this land’s southern width from one end to the other. My eyes glazed, and suddenly I saw a vision…

The Dragon Hill Vision

…The archway of the building framed Wearyall Hill in the town below. As my attention was placed upon it I saw that it was the shape of a sleeping dragon. I could make out a head curled in, folded wings on its flanks, and a tail snaking out and around the back of the hill. As I watched, an overlay, a transparent copy of the dragon woke and looked up at me. With a snort it unfolded its wings, stretched and then looked at me again as if waiting for an instruction. I wondered what to do…then I realised. It wanted to fly but had forgotten how, after such a long sleep. I sent back the instruction to it in my mind – “Fly!” I said, “Fly!”. The dragon vision lifted its neck, looked upwards, and then beat its huge wings until it raised itself off the ground.

Cultural images abound - e.g. Smaug

Once airborne it circled quickly around Wearyall Hill, still visible in front of me, and spiralled upwards and towards me. As the great red dragon flew over my head it disappeared. So authentic was this vision that I knew to be a vision, that for a moment I blinked in case it flew into me….then it was gone. There was no dragon now. Wearyall Hill was just a hill.

View of Wearyall 'Dragon' Hill through the tower

I understood, in a way that only true gnosis can reveal, what it was I needed to do for the next eighth part of the year. I needed to “wake the dragon” – whatever that turned out to mean. I had to wake it, then teach it how to fly, because it had been sleeping for so long it had forgotten. Straight away I was getting linkages coming through from my reading and learning: red dragon -> serpent -> male earth energy -> serpent fire -> kundalini -> ‘raising the serpent fire’ -> a hill -> flying -> shamanic flying -> raising consciousness…. the connections kept coming. It would take me a few weeks to contemplate what this might mean exactly for me, but the direction was clear and more powerful than ever before.

I thought that was the most revelatory thing that could have happened to me that day and I was content to know my direction, but the best was yet to come. We descended the hill and headed for the quiet contemplation space that is the Chalice Well Gardens. That was where the pilgrimage was truly fulfilled!

Gwas.

When I last posted about my journey towards the Spring Awakening I told you about the Lady of Gop Hill, who as it turns out was not Boudicca, but rather was a female spirit or genius loci that watched over the hill. My task that night was to awaken one of the last sites before the Spring Equinox, as this was my task for the duration of the time between Imbolc and Spring. Only a few nights later I was called to visit Dinas Emrys, the last and most difficult of the sites to reach for a number of reasons – firstly, because it was furthest from my house, but also because it was a damned steep and dangerous climb to get up there. The last set of circumstances that I wanted to visit Dinas Emrys in were the ones that I found myself faced with on that Friday night – a cold and wet night with a howling gale blowing. Oh dear.

I tell you, my life was so much easier before I got into this druidry lark, and I could happily have stayed at home that evening, but there was a nagging imperative. It was saying to me that although I had gone through a ritual to awaken Dinas Emrys from afar, there was nothing like actually being in the place to make the awakening real. Was I prepared for the challenge? Oh yes. Let’s do it! So I set off in the pouring rain for a good hour and a half driving across the expanse of North Wales, all the way telling myself that this was sheer madness, and what the hell was I doing?

As I drove over the slopes of Snowdon towards Beddgelert the mist descended and made progress even more dangerous. The gale-force wind was lashing rain across the windscreen at horizontal angles. Unperturbed I picked my way down the single-file winding steep road that led to the River in the valley of Gwynant below. Madness. Total lunacy! As I breathed with relief at the sight of the long straight road that followed the valley floor I was now on the lookout for the parking place that is at the foot of the steep rocky hill that forms the perch for the hillfort of Dinas Emrys . To me, Dinas Emrys is a place that is inextricably associated with Merlin, and this had become firmly fixed in my mind when I had visited the place at the end of the last summer. On that visit the sight of eagles at auspicious moments had had quite an impact on me, and it was a place that made me feel very close to the spirit of whatever it is that Merlin represents to those of us who consider themselves to be following a spiritual path that includes many of the symbols, thoughts and feelings that we associate with the Merlin stories.

If Gop Hill had been a test the feminine aspects of my world: my sensitivity to the energies, my sense of respect, the intuitiveness – then Dinas Emrys was set to test the male attributes already: my courage for a start, my determination to succeed, and my physical ability to see the event through. I parked and got myself kitted out beneath the shelter of the boot of my car, donning waterproofs, walking boots and taking my ash staff with me. The one or two cars that passed me must have thought I was insane at the idea of walking in the middle of the night, and they were totally correct.

I decided to walk up the hill with minimal lighting, so as not to attract attention from any nearby farmers or passing law enforcement. This was one time when I could guarantee that I would have the place to myself and I wasn’t going to let anything intrude on that. I walked up the winding path along the bottom of the hill, enjoying the silence of the night. As I walked the wind and rain were already dying away quite quickly, much to my surprise. Perhaps it was just because I was in the lee of the hill, I thought. I found the path leading steeply upwards and began the lung-bursting climb. My staff proved invaluable in helping my to pick out good solid ground to walk on, and to find protruding rocks. One slip in this weather, in this lonely place, and I would be the kind of casualty that the rescue services write reports about: “This idiot decided it would be a clever thing to do to climb a steep hill along a treacherous path in the middle of the night!” went the imagined opening line of the apocryphal tale. This was when I needed to reach out to other forces for guidance – I was unlikely to be able to do this alone without something happening to me. I stopped and went into a light trance, deepening my connection with the trees and energy forces that I knew were all around me, with the sky, the planets, the night itself, the hill, the rocks….I tried to feel them all. Once I felt connected I asked for guidance to find the right path up the hill to reach my goal unharmed. The remaining breeze brought me the sound of an owl somewhere far away and the trees rustled their protective response. I began to climb again in the darkness, slowly, carefully, but with confidence now.

I got beyond the sheltered plateau that was almost half way up and began to move out onto the thin pointed ridge of rock whose worn surface denoted the steepest and most slippery part of my ascent. Here there were few trees to shelter me and the wind was still blustery enough to cause me to sway occasionally when caught off guard. Also, the path was mainly rock at this point with nothing to get hold of on either side to steady myself. I stopped at the bottom of a section where I could see a steep drop on either side. My boots had already slipped a number of times on the rocks lower down so I knew how dodgy it was when they were wet. Here I was, blown by the winds, teetering at the bottom of a climb along a ridge with treacherous drops on both sides, and very little else to rely on. I paused some more, my mind racing again with the irrationality of it all, “Could I make the fifteen feet stretch along the ridge without falling? What if I slipped? How could I stop myself from falling all the way down? If I was going to turn back this was the point. Why not turn back now, save yourself the bother? Why was I here anyway?”.

At that precise moment when my courage was ebbing away in the face of this uncertainty I heard the cry of an eagle not far above me and to my left. It completely stunned me. It was a single call in the night, but it had the effect of totally brushing away all the doubts that had risen. I knew this was a motivating sign – a call that meant something to me. It was Merlin’s symbol, and it was speaking directly to me telling me to continue. Confidence flooded back into me and I gathered myself and marched on, without a second thought. Next thing I knew I was striding atop the hill with the full force of the wind lashing at my coat. Wow, I felt amazing! Totally charged with emotion and elation at having made it to the top in the face of such a challenge, and straight away I thanked the eagle for giving me that moment to make that happen.

Moments later I was inside the remaining tower walls and beginning a ritual to awaken the sites energies. This involved only two incense sticks, one placed outside the walls on a ledge overlooking the valley below, and in line with the place where I suspect the eagle’s eyrie lies (although I haven’t been over to that mountain opposite to check this – it’s just a feeling I have). The other incense stick went inside the tower right in the centre of the blackened fire that someone had lit within there. I connected with the ash tree nearby and asked for it to contribute to the process of awakening the energies of the site, and this felt like a positive act with a positive response.

As I stood there with my ash staff feeling the connection with the elements that were so palpable upon that exposed perch I felt the wind quicken in response to the work I was doing. I lifted my staff in response to the wind and in the still darkness I let forth a vocal response that started as a low moan and rose to a howl as the wind picked up in direct proportion to the movement of the energies that I felt was going on around me. This only served to further excite me and the vocalisation became a shout into the strong winds that fought my breath for volume. It was extremely thrilling to be one with the winds and as I came to the end of my energy visualisation so the wind died off in proportion to the amount of input that I was making. My voice echoed this and began to trail off too. This was a phenomenon that I was now getting familiar with. This kind of thing has happened a number of times now when I have done such work, so much so that it is no longer startling, and is something that I welcome.

I was standing in my power centre just behind the fire where the lit incense stick was burning brightly, fanned orange by the wind’s recent activity. I disconnected and returned back to normal consciousness. I was eager to whether the genius loci of the place had awoken in response to the enlivening of the energies that I had done. I understood now why being there was so much more important than remotely working on the site. No amount of remote work could replace the sensations I had just experienced, or witness the synchronicities of the eagle’s cry, or the wind’s response to my work. I picked up my dowsing rods and began to do some confirmation.

1. Had I awakened the energies of this site? – YES.
2. Was there a genius loci present at the site? – YES.
3. Was it male or female? MALE.
4. Was there a sigil that signified the presence of the spirit of place? YES.

I asked to be shown me the shape of the sigil, and was directed a foot away to the blackened charcoal of the old camp fire. A shape began to emerge as I dowsed that fire – it was a long clockwise spiral – a male spiral – and this was the sigil for the energy form that was now present again at the site. Whatever the genius loci means, and however one can interact with it, there was a new energy formation here at the top of Dinas Emrys and it had appeared as a result of my work this night. With it being male I had one last question – was the genius loci connected with Merlin? I got a “sort of” response. Was it Merlin? NO. I was barking up the wrong tree with this line of questioning, trying to make this fit because I wanted it to be something that it wasn’t. I decided not to force fit the questions. It was enough that something old had reappeared that night, and I was happy to have re-awakened the energy for this ancient site, and to have fulfilled my final awakening for the Imbolc to Spring phase.

I was in high spirits as I walked back down the hill not caring now about whether I was spotted and so using all the light I had available. When I got back to the steep ridge I realised just how precarious the path was over the slippery rock and gulped. In a way it was a good job I couldn’t see it properly on the way up or I would surely have turned around at that point. As it was I went down it on all fours, picking my way very carefully. I drove home in silence, but felt immensely fulfilled. All the mist, the rain, the gales and the distance had been worth it. All the danger had been forgotten in the delighted glow of achieving something wonderful, even if I was the only person in the world who appreciated what had happened that night.

I now looked forward to the next phase of the year – Spring Equinox to Beltane. What would that phase be about for me? Undoubtedly something unusual and equally challenging, I felt.

Uffington Chalk Horse: August 20th 2009

This is the second of three parts of a modern-day faerytale of George and the Dragon. In the first part I was meditating at Wayland’s Smithy and heard an instruction to “go for a ride”. I was in little doubt that this advice referred to the nearby ‘White Horse’ etched out in the chalk hills above Uffington village, and so I made my way there in the glorious August afternoon sun to see if I could work out where exactly I should be, and to see what would happen if I found the right place.

As I arrived at the top of the formation I couldn’t work out where I was relative to anything so I walked straight down the hill arriving almost immediately at two protruding straight lines. Odd! Looked like a mouth or something, so I plucked out the crab appleI had been carrying and placed it neatly between the “jaws”. I smiled – it looked like it was eating the little apple – a huge horse with a tiny apple. I could see other chalk paths now, but was careful not to tread on them. I moved fiurther down the hill and to the right, realising I was near the head. I was looking for the shoulder and flank, so I headed right and down.

Oddly, I didn’t use my dowsing rods to locate the spot. Instead I reasoned that a good spot to ride any animal might be the junction of the head with the back of the figure, and that’s where I went – straight to it. Conveniently there was a small man-sized hollow at just that point, and I made myself comfortable, lazing in the afternoon sunshine, welcoming the break from work and enjoying the view down the hill. From my vantage point three elements became apparent to me:

1. The ‘horse’ had a forked tongue

 2. The plainly man-made folds of the hill below me spread out like a wing…a dragon’s wing. 

 3. The small flat-topped hill that was enclosed by this ‘wing’ I remembered was called “Dragon’s Hill”

Then it dawned on me – this was no horse. Only from this particular spot could all of the three unusual aspects of this figure be seen from the right perspective to make this apparent on the ground. Faint memories of other people having said the same thing floated through my mind. From that moment of revelation onwards I could no longer see this unique feature as a horse again! Sure, there were other chalk horses in the area, but they looked like horses – in their proportions and their features. This elongated chalk figure was nothing like those carvings at all. It was uniquely different. For me this will now be The Uffington White Dragon.

Alton Barnes White Horse

 I meditated on this and tuned into the landscape, dissolving my sense of self into the sunlight, the winds and the view. Before long I felt the familiar surge of some inner notion and felt it connecting, becoming aware of the movement of nature, its interactions, and at the same time its one-ness. Such metap[hysics never comes across well in print. When it is felt, however, experienced – then its beauty can be appreciated. A semi-blissful state of mind, body and spirit – some days fleeting, others seemingly forever.

In this moment I was focusing on Dragon’s Hill without purpose. It just fell into view. I saw the mound in motion – the twin dragons of male and female, the red and the white, intertwining, writhing. A curling column of energy launched from them upwards into the Oxfordshireair and fell towards me. I could see an egg shaped object inside its mouth as it fell into me in a sudden plunge and I felt the egg land in my chest. I could see it spinning in me – white, then gold, next time I looked it was white again, then gold when I blinked. What was this thing, I mused to myself? “The dragon egg - the golden heart.” I answered myself.

After the shock and the bliss state had worn off I seemed remarkably unperturbed by the whole event. I felt a little proud and excited at this. What could this be? By its tenuous link with perception it was clear to me that it was an invention of my mind, yet it felt incredibly physical too – like I was wearing it inside my chest. I practised not noticing it – yes, I could still operate in the rational world – no-one was staring at my white then gold chest, I wasn’t glowing or anything, and I still had my wits about me. 

I started to get up, and as I did so I saw a negative image of the Dragon’s Hill in my eyes – it looked like a stone circle. It  flashed momentarily then there was only a faint after-image. Too long in the sun! I told myself. Where were my sunglasses when I needed them?

A stone circle. A stone circle. Circle. Another kindly signpost. Would that be where I could hatch this “egg” – the golden egg? It felt like an episode of The Goodies! The Christmas Special episode of the late 1970s where everybody’s running is speeded up as they’re chased through various old children’s stories like Jack and the Beanstalk and the Goose That Laid The Golden Egg.

I went back to the car to check the maps. Stone circles in the area…stone circ…Avebury! Of course. It was late afternoon now. I would be there just as the light was beginning to sink to the horizon. Perfect timing, by coincidence. What an over-used word.

Gwas

Sliding down the scales of The Dragon

For some time now I have been trying to get closer to the spirit of Merlin. In the fabulously detailed and helpful book “Walkers Between the Worlds” there is a section dealing with such encounters. One of the recommendations is to immerse yourself in the history of that figure. Done that. Next, the Matthews’ recommendation is to visit some of the sites associated with that figure. Well, I’ve done that too. But one of the places that regularly comes up in the literature about Merlin is Dinas Emrys.

In his book “Merlin And Wales” Michael Dames says this of Dinas Emrys:-

“Three miles due south of Wales’s highest mountain, Snowdon, stands a steep-sided, flat-topped hillock. Rising a mere 76 metres *250 feet) above the river Glaslyn’s valley floor, it is known as Dinas Emrys. Din Emreis, as it was termed in a charter of AD 1199, plays an outstanding role in the welsh Dark Age and mediaeval tradition. Here Vortigern, king of Britain, tried to build a refuge. Here the boy Merlin almost lost his life while red and white dragons intertwines in a magic pool beneath his feet.“

A good summary of the story to be found here: http://www.celtnet.org.uk/legends/dinas_emrys.html and a study of Vortigern in history can be found here: http://www.vortigernstudies.org.uk/artwho/dinas2.htm.

For me the place had an almost magnetic attraction. I have experienced such a “pull” before from other sites. It starts as a recurring thought, then becomes an insistent thought, then a growing physical feeling in your heart and stomach that you have to visit, and finally you can’t think of anything else but getting there! It really is a strange compulsion. It feels like waiting for Christmas as a child.

I set my hopes and expectations quite low for this visit. I was going to have to go after work, and I knew the travelling time would be at least two and a half hours from there. Even in Summer I would have little time to appreciate the site, and that’s if I found it straight away. I decided that this visit would be a simple recce: find out where it is, how to get up there, what’s there, how it feels, quick dowse, go home.

As I approached Snowdonia I realised I had come ill-prepared. No head torch. No OS map. No compass. All I had was a zoomed in MultiMap print off of the area around Beddgelert. Well, perhaps luck would take over and guide me there? Maybe.

I parked at the National Trust car park at Craflwyn Hall. It only took me half an hour of walking up the hill to realise that I was walking up the wrong one. I had parked too far away! I got my GPS out to check my hunch: the batteries ran out immediately. Oh this was too much! I saw below me the outline of a hill that I felt was familiar – that must be Dinas Emrys. I raced back down the hill, realising that I was now even shorter on time, and that the light would only be with me for another hour!

Parking in a lay-by next to the hill I found a gate and a path that headed off gently along the hillside. The path reminded me of the labyrinthine path around Glastonbury Tor. Was I going to be walking myself into a trance state?  As I walked up I soon arrived at a caravan park. Oh dear. Should I be going through there? I didn’t know. I decided that the best policy was not to disturb anyone, so to avoid the caravans I went straight up the hill, following some incredibly steep animal paths through the ferns, and in between the boulders.

Drenched in sweat I reached the summit, and connected with the proper path that I should have taken from the caravan park. I make that sound easy but at one point I thought I might slip and die it was so steep! On top I walked around to find the castle remains – there seemed to be about three small peaks on top of the summit area. I headed towards the one with the tree.

This area turned out to be the main ‘castle’ remains – a rectangular set of walls enclosing a lower grassy area with some marsh reeds. Marsh reeds? To me that signified flies, midges and other biting insects. Hmmm. And here I was covered in sweat – an attractive meal, no doubt. Immediately I dowsed for the entrance to this enclosure: it was due east, and the exit was south next to a large ash tree.

The ash tree dominated the site. It was unlike any ash tree I had seen before – having a splayed out canopy, and a trunk whose bark was battered and old, yet still maintained an integrity against the moss, lichen and weathering. I was quite taken by it.

I tried to meditate for a short a while, but the midges were too much and I had to flee my seat within the enclosure and stand atop the summit’s edge, craving the light breeze which kept the midges away. I stood admiring the view…

Well, if I couldn’t sit still for any time, perhaps I could move and dowse? I dowsed for power centres – a male one showed up under a pile of three small rocks, and a female one was located where I had sat around a camp fire, on some strewn rocks. Well, how fortunate was that? I seemed to have instinctively chosen the right place to sit!

Continuing with the dowsing I found that ‘my’ power centre was connected to the ash tree by a female energy line. Not at all unusual, I thought. At that moment I was considering whether to continue dowsing, and how long I might have before the light went. Suddenly, the sound of a bird of prey screeching made me look up to see one swirling around in a hunting pattern on the opposite side of the valley. Each circle brought him closer to me. I had seen the same behaviour only the day before over the fields at the back of my house, which I’ve never seen before despite having lived there for 15 years. The screeches from the bird of prey felt to me like a warning sign: was he warning other birds of my presence, or warning me of something? I looked around,  inspecting the hillside above and behind me for any potential danger. It was then that I saw a rolling cloud of mist was descending rapidly down the hillside towards me. Good warning! Suddenly I noticed that the light airy summer breeze had a cold tinge to it now. I began to pack hurriedly, thanking the bird for its warning.

As I descended the main path that I should have come up, I found an enchanting glade. It had rings of old oak trees regularly spaced. There were beautiful mosses growing at the feet of the trees, and the glade seemed protected from the elements above and the winds around the hill. Hmmm…must remember this spot for next time. I continued down the path, passing sentinel oak trees and stopping to briefly acknowledge their presence and purpose, apologising for shortcutting them on the way up! It still feels daft to do this, but the reciprocal energy you get from them gives you a sense that you were right to do that, yet you could feel their annoyance. I hoped for a better reception next time when I ascend in a more respectful manner  rather than bypassing them.

At the bottom of Dinas Emrys I met a sheep roaming the roadside greenery. I told her to stay off the road. We seemed to connect somewhat! I felt she was trying to understand my warning. For one brief moment there was a very strong connection, and that was very strange. As I drove past minutes later I saw her carefully nestled in lush grass on a knoll away from the road.

All the way back home I had in front of me a harvest last quarter moon. I had to drive in silence as the radio wouldn’t pick up any pre-programmed station! In a way it left me free to think about what had happened with the bird of prey. When I got home I got the rods out and asked if the bird of prey was associated with an energy form – YES. Was it a nature spirit? NO. Was it Merlin? YES. Well, this quick recce of a visit had revealed something special after all!

Gwas.

In search of Merlin.

The second installment of our Imbolc trip to Dyserth village in North Wales. In this part we visited the mammary-gland sculpted hilltop of Graig Fawr where we suspected a standing stone may be lurking, and then discover a breath-taking surprise both large and small at the site of Castle Dyserth.

Graig Fawr hill

The air was cold enough to steal your breath as the occasional intrusive wind took away our warm car glow all too soon.  Graig Fawr hill in January. We must be slightly unhinged. We headed up the at-first gentle slope but soon I stopped Kal. “Let’s see if we can trace the male and female energies to see how they inter-relate.” I suggested. Ever ready to embrace an interesting pastime Kal began searching around for a male line, whilst I swept the area for a female line. Within a minute we each had a connection to the respective lines and marched off uphill, Kal to the left and I to the right.

I soon lost sight of Kal as his superior fitness and manic dedication to dowsing propelled him like a whippet straight up the main path. He wasn’t hanging around! I, on the other hand, was being taken hither and thither in a slowly wavering dance across the right-hand side of the hill. As I passed the occasional man-sized hollow the energy would go towards it and curve into a spiral inside it. At each stop I dowsed for the direction of any energy coming out of the edge of the hollow and found a continuation of the network of female spirals as I was walked in long S-shapes up the hill.

Whenever there was a mound or a pair of mounds, the female energy made its way towards them and then spiralled atop them. The chain was unbroken – a continuous line of female energy snaking its way curvily up the hill, attracted to the curvier features, gaps and hollows that marked the features of the hill. Occasionally a hawthorn tree’s energy would also contribute to the energy patterns and seemed to either be feeding into it or drawing from it. It was too cold to even think with the scything wind sometimes pulling the rods aside for a moment until they bounced back onto the line.

I saw Kal at the top waiting, trying to keep warm. I increased my pace as the hill’s slope wore off near the summit and joined him. “Where did the male line go?” I asked. “Straight up the path. Very little deviation. I just came straight here!” said Kal. “Well, I was taken all over the place – into hollows, back and forth across the hill, over those mounds.” I don’t think I sounded like I was complaining. It had been a rollercoaster ride in this increasing wind!

Yes I R InSain

We quickly dowsed for a standing stone in the area but were lead around the peak and into the trigonometry marker on the top. Oh, very funny! “Trickster.” muttered Kal in response to his oddly-crossed rods – this was the Trickster’s call sign. We smiled. All that way for a trig. point, in the freez…. we had learned that sometimes our enthusiasm and expectations have to be more…contained. It’s a state of mind necessary to become delighted by surprises – the state required for transformative experiences. Things are revealed to you as you are ready and willing to experience them. It’s not Fate – it’s a preparation of mind, a sort of cleansing, a cleansing of the mind of that which you are seeking. If you pay it attention, if you seek it, you get the booby prize – every time. It has to be a long-term goal, a quest, a purpose. If you yearn for it, no pudding for naughty boys. You get The Slap. In this mindset, this state of grace, more things become possible, and more improbable things are manifested. But you want to hear about the flowing lines, right? Back to the energies!

Dyserth Castle – small

A quick warm up in the car and it was time to unholster those copper rods and put away childish flasks. This is Winter Dowsing, making a bid for the 2010 Winter Olympics in a string vest and no gloves in a blizzard. Actually, it had calmed down a bit, but the sky was still leaden with snow and the wind still made it difficult to talk without shouting. We checked the map and stomped off down the Graig Fawr hill even further, across the road next to the car park, and down a narrow high-hedged lane until the footpath sign on the right. We hopped into the field making remarks about the austere temperature and the level of inappropriateness of Kal’s attire, when we passed a group of rocks and breeze blocks in the middle of the sloping field. We noticed them, then stopped. “Did we just both seem drawn to these rocks?” I asked. Kal nodded, “Yeah, we did.” It was a dowsing cue.

Motley Crew

We wandered around the small stack for a moment assessing it. It didn’t look particularly interesting. There were three small breeze blocks in amongst the larger boulders. They formed an ovoid ring shape. There was a bare patch of oval earth off-centre, and it was slightly concave. I dowsed for its nemeton edge. As I dowsed towards it I felt uneasy and stopped. Why had I stopped? What was that feeling? It was a feeling of being unwelcome – “like being an unwelcome guest at a party and everyone turns to wonder why you’re there when you enter.” I later explained it. I stepped back and paused. Strong male energy was the response. Not a frequency I attune to well.

Kal, on the other hand was straight onto the bare patch, turning to face the hill to the West. He quickly adopted a serene half-smile that told me he was not going to be moving any time soon. Thirty seconds later the sun broke through the clouds in the one break in the sky and it fell straight onto us. It was above a pyramid-shaped hill to the West of us – the direction Kal was facing. It was one of those coincidences that makes you wonder about the joy of coincidence. Had we been rewarded with some warm sun for obeying the rules by my staying out of this very male-oriented spot? It doesn’t need to be thought about. It just happened and we paid it attention.

I dowsed for the edge of Kal’s aura, his nemeton as I approached again. I found it about 12-15 feet away from the small ring cairn’s centre. I followed it around both sides and behind Kal. Behind him the nemeton was very thin, only several inches wide, but at each side and out in front it expanded into an large ellipse shape, like a pair of butterfly wings. The clouds were quickly disappearing now as the sun burned through.

I dowsed for Kal’s rainbow chakra colour field to see if it was any different from his aura. Indeed it was. His violet coloured boundary was a further ten feet beyond the edge of his aura. Again the bands decreased in width as I approached Kal. His red band was a mere inch from his body as he stood on that spot. Well, he is very groundless at the moment. Mind you, I thought he’d taken root on this spot the amount of time he stood there.

Kal opened his eyes again and was awash with a surge of energy. He bounded off the centre, grabbed his stuff as we prepared to leave, and ran from side to side down the hill enthusiastically. “Come on!” he was smiling and encouraging. “Let’s find this castle!” and he was off over a stile like a goat eating chillies. What is this, a chapter from The Famous Five? Blimey. I hurried along with staff and pack to keep him in sight. Loon.

Dyserth Castle – large

Kal was of course the first to catch sight of the site of the castle. He bounded back to inform me that I was about to be impressed. He wasn’t wrong. As I rounded the bare bramble bushes lining the path a vista opened up to me that drew my breath from my body in admiration. The photographs barely do it justice.

Dyserth Castle

We drank in the atmosphere for a few moments then set to work. Where were the sources of male and female energies in this arena of rock, this cauldron of cliffs? We rapidly identified several sources. Kal found some power centres (crossing points of water generating vertical vortices of male and female counter-spiralling energy). I located the primary source of female earth energies – it was a large break in the western cliff face, and the largest rock at the base of that crack (pardon) was the primary source of male energies. However, Kal had also found male energies coming from a power centre next to the large mound of piled stones on the eastern side of the castle’s floor.

The gap between the stones dowsed for the return of the female energy flow and was acting as a kind of attractor – just as David Cowan had described in his books. The rest of the area was quiet – there was a male line and a female line with occasional power centres uncoiling into short waves and ending in spirals. One or two rocks tested for being energetic.

Make your own stone circles

As we dowsed I noticed that some stones on the castle floor were connected to the flow of male or female energies emerging from the cliff side. I was dowsing just such a connection when Kal decided to move one of the rocks – “I wonder what happens if you move it?” he quizzed as he struggled to roll the square stone. When he stopped I dowsed the connection again – it had moves with the stone. Hmm…so the attraction point was the stone and not the position. At once we both had the same thought – let’s create two circles. I described the image that had just popped into my head – two circles that overlapped each other – one built of male energy and the other female. First – would it work, and second – what would happen at the overlap? Pictures of Venn diagrams flooded my memory but I swept them away and started shifting some of the stones – dowsing to find the correct stones and for where I should place them.

My constructed circle

Soon I had eight stones in position, only two of which I actually placed myself. Two others were from the overlap with Kal’s circle, and four were already in the correct position! Kal complained that I was stealing his stones – he had five in his slightly smaller circle. I reminded him that was the purpose of the exercise! We dowsed our own circles, walked them a few times clockwise, and then dowsed each others’ circles. Kal’s was definitely a Male Sun circle, whilst mine tested for Female Moon energy. Both rings felt energetic, even though some of the rocks we had in the circles didn’t seem to have energy in them.

Kal marks the power centre of his circle

At the intersection where the two circles overlapped there were male and female spirals. Did this mean that spirals were caused by the interplay between male and female frequencies, much like light or sound, or magnetic waves in form? We had lots to think about and made our way back to Dyserth. Kal briefly stood back in the little ring cairn and seemed reluctant to move until I reminded him of his obligations to his stomach. We made for the car and sustenance from the Spar shop in the village.

Tricky Picnic Places and The Mighty Falls

Frost, the american poet, said those immortal lines about picking paths through the forest by wear and tear factor, but essentially I have ingrained in me a similar annoying trait. So we find ourselves above Dyserth Waterfall, looking for it, but I pick a path the leads us down a narrower and steeper section as it unwinds next to the river that drops so suddenly nearby. The path ends in a hair-raising arched tree that fords the 15ft wide river. Can’t jump. Have to climb. So I do. Videoed by Kal. Thanks mate. Needed the extra pressure! So I return the favour when it’s Kal’s turn, adding the occasional giggle and encouraging words when he decides to wade across the icy river instead of walking the bent tree. Oh what? Oh yes. YouTube beckons.

We have lunch in the small caves there in tranquil peace while the sun continues to shine through a gap in the tree canopy to hit the very spot where we’re sitting. Ahhh…things are going just fine at this point. After lunch we head back to the car admiring the waterfall as we go.

Now we’re heading out towards the Golden Grove. It’s marked on the OS map I’ve printed off using MultiMap and seems to be in the middle of open farmland. OK – let’s go see what a golden grove looks like! We park and head off over the field of sheep along the last vestiges of a path now obliterated by hoof marks. As the slope gets steeper it gives me more time to notice that we are walking next to a fenced off avenue of tall and wide beech trees. As I followed their natural line of interlacing pairs up the slope I could see they were leading somewhere. Great. We were spurred on.

At the top the green and brown fields stretched down the other side. To the right, more fields. To the left, a deciduous wood. Could that be the Golden Grove? It seemed to far away from the map’s placement, but they can occasionally be slightly obtuse in their placement of names, and there was no structure marked. And indeed, the Golden Grove seems to no longer have a structure. It has gone. We sloped back to the car, tired from trekking but happy at the rest of the day’s results.

Lost : one slightly used staff

There had been something nagging me as we had arrived at the rude lay-by that we parked in – I didn’t have my staff. Where had I left it? What should I do, apart from wonder whether I should get emotionally attached to a snapped branch? I decided to go in search of it. I’ll take you through it in a separate post.

Gwas

Following a golden thread back to my staff