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Postcard Number 6 5 August: St Mary’s Well, Penrhys We return to Wales. We are returning to our host’s home near Aberystwyth. On the way we travel up the Rhonda. Rows of small stone houses line the road and hillsides. This is an old mining area. Leaving the valley at Ystrad we climb up the hillside to the top, Penhrys, and a large statue of the Virgin Mary. Down a track on the hillside overlooking Llwynypia is one of the sacred springs that dot the landscape of Wales. Each spring has healing qualities and they may be known to be specific to a particular ailment or ailments. Following a path bordered with Bracken and Ragwort we come to the shrine built over the well. It is a small arched stone building, much of which remains from Medieval times. This was a place of pilgrimage and the water was healing until the time of the Reformation when such things and places were often violently suppressed.
Greeting the spirits and offering cornmeal, we see that the shrine is locked up and we cannot go any further nor sample the waters. I sit and meditate. The place feels very feminine. It is a goddess place. The spirits here are happy and joyful, dancing around us. The earth here is tired. It feels like a systemic tiredness, is not just this place that is weary. Midgets, bees and flying ants fill the air around us. We do not stay long, the hour is getting late and the rest of the journey is before us. Again one feels blessed to have been here. Today I have seen 2 more groups of 3 crows. That makes 3 lots in the last 2 days. As the sun sets we drive over the mountain road between Llanidloes and Machynlleth. The sheep are now asleep and no longer a hazard on the road. A bat flitters past us and the waxing moon has wisps of cloud streaking its face. It is 10.15 pm by the time we reach “home”. 7 August: Red Kites This is the last full day of our holiday. Packing and sorting, a trip into the town for last minute gifts and supplies and the final wish fulfilled – to see the Red Kites. These big birds were faced with extinction, their numbers dropping to about 30 pairs due to deliberate hunting as they were considered vermin, until over the last decades they have been protected and nurtured until there are about 400 breeding pairs in Wales. Each day at 3 pm in the summer they are fed by the side of a magical lake on the slopes of Pumlumon Fawr. As we wait dragon flies flit over the edges of the water, red butterflies feed on flower nectar. Then we see some Kites begin to gather. A Buzzard makes a get away before the big birds arrive. They come from all four directions in groups of 10 to 15, circling, crying to each other, rust red on their wings and then, when they are ready, diving out of the sky to grab with their talons the food left on the grass. Then they fly skywards, gliding high above us, circling again. On our way back we travel the one-track mountain road and Kites are there, swooping and blessing us on our way. Here we see them closer than at the feeding place. The day ends with dinner in town and some Welsh dancing on the promenade. The dancers trace patterns on the earth, weaving in and out, drawing knots and circles, creating relationships and energies, tracing beginnings and endings, creating joy in music, rhythm and movement. The sun has set as we walk by the seafront leaving a wide rainbow stretching half the length of the horizon. The full moon has risen as we drive back to our beds. 11 August: Home We are home in Dunedin. I walked in to the kitchen this morning and heard a Tui singing. The NZ energy is so different from that in Britain. I continue to dwell on the fact that those islands have known human habitation for many thousands of years more than these islands. I feel overwhelmed that barrows and cairns that were created over 4,000 years ago survive still and function as energy centres, so what are the consequences for the next 4,000 years of what we are building and creating on this planet? I am also aware, for the first time really, that the history of the British Isles is a saga of one group or people after another trying to take over another and their lands, of repeated suppressions or attempted suppression of one group by another, of one way of life by another culture. This is so clearly experienced in Wales where many of the old ways have been lost and are now being recovered along with their language, identity and national pride. I was informed that even the Welsh dances were lost except in remaining description and the dance group is reviving them as best they can. In spite of all that has been done, much knowledge remains and I suspect the land and its spirits will teach it to those who are willing to hear I am aware of the pull of my ancestors and ancestral home in my consciousness. Most of my ancestors are from Britain, one about 10 centuries ago from Arabia and another long ago from Israel. I ponder this influence on my life. Part of the message at Glastonbury to me was about being in the right place at the right time. The timing was perfect and so clearly illustrated by the news that we received on our return – the terrorist alert on airlines happened not long after we left. Our journey home went smoothly and well. Finally and not least: I am very thankful. We have been so blessed on this journey. I thank the Great Spirit from the bottom of my heart. I thank my teachers and especially Eileen Nauman for the learning I have been entrusted with. I thank all our hosts for their kindness and help. And especially I thank my beloved husband for making all this possible, for his sensitivity and attunement to what I wanted to do and for his respect and love in it all. He is a true treasure.
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St Mary’s Well, Penrhys |
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Red Kites over Pumlumon Fawr |
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Raewyn Freedman Shamanic facilitator |
