Thursday dawned as a very wet, very blustery, very bleh day. Great day. No really. I went to the Abbey as usual, but as there were few people about, I decided to go up to the meeting room where all of the reference library is kept and delve into a PhD thesis about the Abbey’s archaeology. There is also a brandy-new book available that outlines the archaeological digs at the Abbey as long as such has been going on.
After I exhausted my eyes, I went down to the Abbey Tea Rooms for a cuppa and a look through the local paper. I “met” a very loud young man who told me he was a channel and a healer. “Me too,” says I. I have found that channels and healers are a dime a dozen in Glastonbury. This one was heading back to London after 18 months here. He sounded bereft, as if he were going home to Siberia and not just 3 hours down the M4. Leaving Glastonbury has a tendency to that to people, though. I understand and sympathized.
Once I finished my tea, I decided to take a drive up streets and lanes that I had never been on before. What was laid before me is a quiet lane and a “back door” route to the Tor.
Here are some vistas of the countryside from that lane.
The late afternoon/evening had turned beautiful seeing the rain of the morning move to some other vale and now the clouds lay gorgeous on Avalon.
Just a bit further along the lane, solitary among boulders of granite or limestone to keep people from parking and leaving their cars there, is this solid quartz boulder. Of course, my pictures don’t do it justice. It is 30″ high at its maximum and about that broad on the ground. My pictures attempt to show the numerous points and crannies that make up the boulder. For you Arthur fans, could this be the stone from which he pulled the sword??? Hmmmm. Seriously, though, it is an amazing piece of mother earth to be found here on the side of the road in Somerset. A treat.
So, it began raining again and I ended my short sojourn. But, the next day, Friday turned off beautiful.
Again to that lane, past the views and the quartz boulder. To some magnificent views of the Tor that I have ever taken. See for yourself.
You can really see the layered terraces that are one of the hallmarks of the Tor. [Remember that the Tor is the hill, not the medieval tower on the top.] Many use the terraces as a labyrinthine walkway to ascend the Tor. Whether or not that labyrinth is a human-made pilgrimage-way is up for constant debate. It has been used enough, at this point in time, that it has become that for many pilgrims.
I went down another even smaller lane, which went to a beautiful home and into a very muddy farm road that I didn’t try. But as I was turning around to go back out, this was the view. Can you imagine living with that view outside your windows? This is one of my favorite pictures that I have ever taken. We are looking from slightly northeast view, here.
On this map, I am taking the picture approximately from the little red dots on the road in the upper right corner. I wish I could put in an arrow. Alas.
From here and in due awe, I went back down Wellhouse Lane [which ends on Chilkwell St. and runs between the Chalice Well Gardens and the White Spring] to take some exterior pictures of the White Spring. Although there are many photographs on-line, the association of companions of the White Spring ask that no electronics or photographs of any kind be taken of the interior. I respect that. The nature of the energy in the White Spring is wilding. It is the raw force of Gaia rushing from beneath the Tor itself. There are geological papers about the origins of the springs, but, even these scientists seem somewhat at a loss. I invite you to read J.D. Mather’s “‘WONDER-WORKING WATER’: THE HISTORY AND HYDROGEOLOGY OF THE CHALICE WELL AND OTHER GLASTONBURY SPRINGS” for a scientific explanation. All of the springs associated with the Tor “arise from the Pennard Sand. And, while there is fluctuation of water levels due to rain or lack there of, at least the Red Spring and the White Spring always flow.
This is the place in the whole of Glastonbury where I personally find my connection to land, to the Lady and to the land of Faery.
Step with me into the Temple. The rushing water
from the heart of the Tor
Full of Goodness
Full of Magick
Full of Life.
The realm of Gwyn Ap Nudd
The Realm of SHE WHO IS
Queen of the World
The realm of a thousand years in a single day and night.
When we emerge from the Faery
what will we find outside?
A world healed? A world gone madder?
WE must decide. cbm 11/19/2015
This is a place I love. Today, Sunday, I’m going to go and volunteer there so others may come and visit. Blessed Be.
And now on into Somerset to Compton Dundon. The day was so fine and the yews growing over the edge of the Chalice Well wall whispered to go and visit the old one. The ancient yew in the church yard of the St. Andrews Church at the top of a hill in the lovely village of Compton Dundon. It is a spectacular site/sight and I will let the photos speak for themselves.
This tree is breathtaking. She is surrounded by an octagon stone wall with over 6′ sides. She is hollow inside and appears not to care in the least. The church information claims she is some 2000 years old. That means the first builders of the first church must have recognized her age and let her stand. The church itself is at least 1000 years in origin as there is a floor tomb within marked 1036. Here are some interior and exterior pictures. From an old architect’s view, it is amazing.
While I sat on the great octagon under the Yew, from inside the church (which was quite empty) I heard doors banging shut. Four times. Even the pigeons in the bell tower were flustered and flew. I said a prayer for any stuck souls to go to their intended places and the banging stopped. The pigeons came back and the crows wheeled overhead.
It is difficult to leave the Yew’s presence, and only the rain forced me back to the car and down the steep lane to the village below.
Being a wanderer – I love to get lost and find my way out again! – I took a road that I had never been on. Whilst on it, I took a turn that was a farm road leading to one that appears to be for sale and quite deserted. As I came back to the more main road, I saw this. . .
Surely, that is a sign.