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Postcard Number 4 1 August: The Devil’s Arrows Yesterday we left Wales for our round trip in England. At last it is raining. As we have travelled it is astounding to notice how many birches have suffered so severely from the heat and drought that their leaves have turned brown. We all sigh with relief at the blessing of the rain. The landscape opened up as we came into Merseyside and then south Lancashire. We stopped to view the great gothic revivalist cathedral of Liverpool, ate lunch in their refectory; then on into Yorkshire. As we came over the Pennines the sky became vast, one could see for miles across the hills. We found my husband’s friends’ home in Ripon where we were made very welcome.
Today our host insisted on driving us to the places we wanted to see. The first was to see the three huge stones known as the “Devil’s Arrows”. They are between 5.5 m and 6.8 m tall and are roughly aligned with each other. Two stand in a farmer’s field sown with some sort of beet. One must not trample the farmer’s crop but there is a track around the field by the hedge. It has rained heavily overnight and the weeds growing by the path are heavy with water. The stones, the central one at least, are friendly in their response when asked if I may approach. They almost seem to want to be touched and hugged. I walk around the edge of the field and notice that the fat hen growing there and the grass lean over the path, rubbing against my legs. My jeans become a little wet. I am grateful that I wore jeans today as a skirt would not have been as practical nor as warm, for the temperature has dropped at least 13 ºC over the last day or so. The closer I get to the stones, the wetter my legs become. Then I realise that my shoes were not waterproof and the top of my feet become a little damp. Slowly water begins to gather on the top of my foot and first one drop then another ran down the sides of my feet and under them. I squelch on. It was not possible to get closer than about 10 meters to the middle stone. We greet each other and moved on. Suddenly I am stopped by a thistle. I was to go no nearer than that to the far stone. Frankly I am glad as the wetness is turning to chill. There is a sense of vibration going on along the line of the stones. After retreating we cross the road separating the middle stone from the third one. This one also is welcoming and asks to be touched. Here I felt the fine vibration moving through the stone. York Minster From the Devil’s Arrows, we travelled into York to visit the Minster there. As we waited for the bus to carry us into the central part of the city great dark clouds rolled past and thunder crashed in the distance. Entering the Minster was a disturbing experience due to the amount of bustle and noise as tourists entered and paid their fees. Tours were doing the rounds with their guides. I felt that I wanted to enter in quietness and meditatively. We paid and I took a deep breath. The whole experience of this Cathedral was deeply moving for me and intensely interesting. There are many things surviving from the earlier pagan earth religions that have been built into this medieval church – from the many carvings of the Green Man in the chapter house to the dragon’s head over where the font used to be. Many of these great churches have been built on old sacred sites, places of power that had been recognised by the old religion. That is one of the things that make these churches very special places, places of power where spirituality can be specially fostered in those willing to allow it. One of the places we did not visit due to time and distance is a series of henges that all lie on a northwest axis and have been fairly newly investigated near Thornborough. This covers a site about 10 km long and though it has no standing stones, it is a vast and rich Neolithic area. A gravel quarry borders it and there is great concern about its preservation, as the company want to dig the site up for gravel. This can be seen at www.thornborough.ncl.ac.uk 2 August: Stanton Moor and Well Dressing. We are still blessed with rain today. We farewell our delightful hosts in Ripon. I manage to get us lost a number of times. I may be sacked from my job as navigator, but driving on the M1 terrifies me. Not that that is where I lost us! Eventually we find the south entrance to Stanton Moor in Derbyshire. We walk up onto the moor. The path leads through Heather. A Heather spirit assures me that we are welcome. There are Bilberry bushes with tiny berries that stain our fingers and tongues a frightening shade of blue. Here and there grow birch saplings. It is only about 1½ km to the Nine Ladies stone circle and the King Stone. As we approach, to our left is a small stand of coppiced birch trees. Three crows fly out of it across our path. A little further on is a grove of birches. In the centre is the stone circle I have come to see. People are camping there and two women are sitting in the centre of the circle chatting. The circle is about 11 metres in circumference and the stones are all less than 1 metre high. To the southwest is a single standing stone called the King Stone. The whole moor is rich in Cairns and once had at least 3 other stone circles near this one.
I grounded myself and asked permission to approach. I am met by the guardian of the place who gave me his name. He carried a long staff and is very dignified. He tells me exactly where to approach the circle from and what to give as offerings. I am temporarily distracted by a pile of rocks to my left and wander over with the guardian to see them. There is a deep old quarry and the energy here is very heavy. We return to the circle. I see that the two women have left the Henge and I make our offerings. We approach from the King Stone and there is what feels like a river of light entering the circle. We walk this path of light and then leave it to walk around the circle and honour the 4 directions, then enter the circle. There is a lot of activity in the circle and it feels quite joyous though the energy is somewhat clogged. This is a place of power where sacred rituals have taken place. Sitting outside the Henge I meditate for a while. The place is physically dirty and littered with bottles and other rubbish. The energy is also not clean or clear around it. I am not able to do any work at the moment to help with this. There is a knowing that if the stones wake, the area will be cleared in a moment. We leave as a gaggle of tourists arrive and shatter the quiet. We travel through Bonsall to look at the ‘well dressing’. The village has about 8 wells and each of them has a plaster board decorated with flower petals, moss and pebbles, creating a picture. Some of them are Christian in theme, others are secular. This is a custom that goes back to pagan times and honouring the water spirits. It is a wonderful way to honour the water spirits, show gratitude to Mother Earth for the blessing that water brings to our lives. |
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Two of the “Devil’s Arrows” in the farmer’s field |
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Stanton Moor Nine Sisters stone circle with the King Stone in the foreground |
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Raewyn Freedman Shamanic facilitator |
