Solstice journey to Avalon

 

I know I’ve written this a little later (that is, about 4 weeks after the event!) but I felt the need to write up my last adventure.  Shortly after my first adventure with Frog and Sue (in the town of Whitby) we headed up to Scotland and I was able to stand at Dunadd fort – reckoned to be one of the seats of the Scottish Kings.  It was a fantastic experience.

Well at the end of the year I was taken out again on the next adventure – this time to Glastonbury.  Frog and Sue had been there many times before, but this was a special time of the year as it was the weekend before the Winter Solstice – when the night is at its longest.  Frog had hoped to see the sunrise from within Stonehenge, but got the dates wrong on his leave, so that put paid to that.  However, on the Sunday we walked up Glastonbury Tor.  I was quite pleased that it hadn’t snowed as even with my fur I could still feel the cold; but it still wasn’t warm and there were one or two tricky slippy bits that kept us all on our toes.

No-one really knows how the Tor was used; there are loads of guesses about whether there is a labyrinth to get to the top (the sides are sloping but with some interesting levels) but there was a church on the top once (now there is only a tower).  After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, we all headed back down into the Town for a cup of tea to warm us up!

After, we strolled back almost to the foot of the Tor to go to the Chalice Well.  This well, known in the past as the Blood Well or the Red Well, was rumoured to be where the blood of Christ was placed (along with the holy grail).  There was supposed to be a second spring well, but the site for that is now obscured with a supermarket.

Anyway, the Chalice Well is a peace garden, with lots of areas where you can sit in quiet contemplation.  Unfortunately it was cold, so the only contemplation was whether fingers would remain on the ends of hands!  The well cover was really lovely – the symbol representing the interaction between this world and the other; the water has long been thought to have healing properties.  there are two glasses under a small water spout that is constantly fed from the well, the water also goes onto fill a healing bath (bet that’s cold!). The water has a high iron content (hence the Red in the name) and this has also coated much of the water flows with a red tinge!

 

Overall, Glastonbury had a very calm feel to it – a bit like the Kilmarten valley in Scotland, but with more people.  I had a really lovely time.

For a few more pictures, head over too: http://www.magpieschest.co.uk/glastonbury09.html

Article by Whitby. 

Pictures by Frog.

Whitby starts his apprenticeship

Frog strolled into the Order’s Meeting.  “Friends” he started “I’d like to introduce you to a new member – Whitby.”

The order turned and slowly looked at Whitby up and down.  Blurb said that he felt a little unsure – the Order wasn’t supposed to be a big group, so what was Whitby going to bring to the table that wasn’t already present?

Granger then stepped into the room.  “I have now accompanied Whitby as part of the recent tour of Whitby, Oban, Arran and Alnwick that Frog undertook with me – and I can recount his tale”

“Oh no” said HP “that’s not the rules.  Whitby has to recount his tale – and we then decide if that makes him a worthy member of the order”.

Granger turned to Whitby.  “You have the floor” he said and smiled.  Whitby took two paces forward….

 

“Gentlemen” he said “Normally I have a friendly, happy face, but you have asked for my tale; from what Granger has told me about you all I know that you each have dark recesses that you can go to.  So allow me to tell you my tale….

My story starts many years ago, one dark, cold night.  The mists swirled round the town of Whitby like a shoal of silver fish, and the pavement could only be heard as the footsteps clicked on the cobbles.  My master had descended the last of the steps from the Abbey, slowly carefully, his polished black shoes softly brushing the stone and his walking cane clicking as it touched.  His black, leather gloved hand skimmed the hand rails – too many had slipped trying to descend the 199 steps.  He then walked towards his small shop – a thick, old building with small windows and low door.  Just as he approached the front another hooded person approached him from the left.

“Alms for the poor” said the hooded person.

“Begone with you, you’ll only spend it on beer” said my master, and he quickly entered the building and closed the door behind him.

Once inside, his eyes adapted to the dark – just enough that he could see to light the candle in the window; its faint yellow light casting shadows around the wall from the many herbs that were hanging from the old oak beams.  My master walked across to a writing table and opened the thick black book.  His gloved finger drew down the page and with a quick tap he turned and gathered the ingredients he had decided he would need.

 

Outside his shop, the beggar shuffled away from the building.  He knew that the gentleman was right, he wasn’t going to do anything but add to the few pennies that he had already gathered that day and spend them all in the local pub; whilst he knew that this wasn’t the best way of spending the money, the warmth of the inn and the laughter of drunken colleagues meant that he could forget the cold in his bones and the continuous hunger that consumed him.  It also meant that he could stop reflecting on what he had been and what he was now….

Now there’s a familiar face!” came the drunken cheer as he crept quietly into the inn.  Already many of the places by the fire were occupied – and mostly by people dressed like him.  “Shuffle up all, room for another!”  Soon he had his pewter goblet in hand, supping beer with his friends.  The outside seemed so far away now.

 

Smoke slowly curled around the roof.  My master opened the door and the trail – like a snake – left the room.  It slowly made its way down the street and under the door of the inn – the other end leaving the cauldron and wrapping itself round a small black puppet.

 

Some say what happened that night in the inn was just a myth. Others put it down to a bunch of drunk people who claimed pagan – druidic even! – roots in the town,  being forced to go undercover when the Abbey went into dissolution – the locals thinking that these characters had woven a magic spell that had doomed the church.  I know what I know and I know what I believe – one moment I was sat with my colleagues the next I am incarnet in a puppet, passed from person to person – until I was finally able to be befriended by someone who seemed to have the same inner frequency as I once saw in myself…..”

 

“So, you’re saying that you used to be a Druid, but now you’re a puppet.  Is that right?” said E.A.  “So okay, I’ll buy the story and play along – prove it!”

All the others smiled – this was always a fun game to play.

Whitby drew himself up to full height (which wasn’t much further) when Granger stepped in.  “Actually gang, I can help with that – and I think you’ll rather like it”.

 

“This is photo that Frog took when he and I walked up Dunadd Fort.  Whitby had stayed back in the car.  This used to be a fort where – it is said – Kings of Scotland would claim their place as ruler over the land and the people.  It was very high and very steep to get to the top.  When we got to the top, we found an indentation in the rock which is said to be the King’s footprint.

When we got back down, Whitby asked if we had seen the carving of the wild boar on the side of the rock.  Frog said no, he hadn’t seen it and asked if it was up there – and Whitby said it was but that it wasn’t easy to see.  Later, Frog saw a postcard which showed the carving.  It had been taken in a certain light and the carving stood out… Luckily the next day (On Beltane) we were able to return to the Fort – this time Whitby joined us.  Without having seen the photograph he pointed at the rock and said… it’s there.  We had to look really closely – but it was.”

 

 The Order all went quiet.  This was a good game.  Mab spoke.

 “I know I’m not the most important member of the order here – but I would like to welcome Whitby to the Order.  I believe that he has a lifetime of learning within him that I think we can all develop from – and I would like to be his pupil”

 They all clapped, then turned to Blurb.

 “My friends!  How can I turn down such a learned person from our Order?  I too will welcome Whitby!  But… and please understand me when I say this… I will not bestow any duties upon you until you have served your apprenticeship to the Order”.

 Whitby smiled.  “My friend Blurb – and colleagues.  I thank you for your welcome to the Order.  I would not wish to undertake a duty unless I knew I could do that duty well.  I spent many, many years learning this craft of mine, so I know who I am – and am comfortable waiting for you to know me also so I can be a full member of the Order.  Until then, I will be your Apprentice.”