Samhain; thoughts, ideas and a solo ritual – on behalf of Circle Of Pagans

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In a previous blog post I mentioned  that I hold the role of ‘Ritualist’ for the Circle of Pagans moot.

This is a longstanding moot that serves Liverpool  and the surrounding area as well as any one else who might be passing through.

Part of my role is to create simple rituals for each of the eight spokes of the Neo-pagan wheel of the year. These are rituals that anyone can follow, regardless of how new they are to their pagan path or their ritual experience.

The rituals are based on Wiccan, Druid and Traditional Witchcraft ceremonies;  like most followed by Neopagans today.

They are rituals that can be used by sole practitioners or adapted to group use easily; feel free to tweak them until they suit you and yours.

Circle of Pagans aims to share knowledge and reach out to the wider community. Which is why I thought I’d post the rituals on my blog for others to see, adapt and use.

So here we go……..

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Samhain Equinox ritual:

Thoughts:

– The word Samhain has it’s origins in the distant past as a word meaning ‘summers end’. In many ‘celtic’ or gaelic tongues it’s also the word used for the month of November.
Historically. it is thought, that the term Samhain actually covered the first three months of the coming winter – November, December and January  in the modern calendar – rather than just one night or one month.
Samhain was the name of the darkening night and the descent in to a frigid world fringed with the death of leaves and as such the death of the Land itself.

–  In many pagan books and links you’ll see Samhain referred to as the ‘Pagan New year’, yet, this is often debated. Many would say that the turning point that is the Winter Solstice would be the beginning of a new year.
However, those that do might be painting a modern interpretation over and older worldview. You see, to much of the ancient world, the day started with the dusk – after all, life starts in the darkness of the womb and the seed is the beginning, not the seedling, at least not until it is covered with the darkness of soil.
And it’s not a bad thought to think that we could start the day eating and then sleeping  is it?

–  The Samhain that we know, falls on All Hallow Eve or Hallowe’en and indeed, is known to have birthed the latter one way or another. Mainly through continued folk practices of the ‘celtic’ world and an adoption by the Roman Catholic church in the Middle Ages… and from there via a ship to America and the New World. Across the pond, many of the customs brought by the new arrivals found a commonality and were pooled together to create what we know of as the modern Halloween.

– Like many ancient festivals, it would have been celebrated with a bonfire – in this case though the bonfire would have helped to chase away the more malicious spirits that were set loose upon the wind by the thinning of the veil. In some cases juniper and similar were added to the fires and the smoke breathed in as a method of self purification and protection.

– One British folktale, which ties in well with old Romany Gypsy lore, was of Old Jack – a human trickster who was so devious in his antics that neither God nor Satan wanted him when he died – dooming him to wander the in between worlds a s a spirit for ever. It’s said that Satan threw coals from Hell’s eternal fire to get rid of Jack, but he caught one in a turnip and so created the first Jack O’Lantern.
Which makes you wonder about the use of the turnip or pumpkin lanterns in the past – was it a sign that he had already visited, or that there was already a trickster in place… or was it to keep him away via the old tradition which states that when you know someone’s real name then you have power over them. Perhaps then, the lanterns were in place to say ‘we know who you are, so don’t even bother trying to trick us or we’ll name you and then we’ll own you for the night!’

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–   It’s often assumed that a fear of the more malicious spirits and the marauding dead birthed the Jack O Lanterns of the ancient age. In the days of old, and even still today, faces would be carved in swedes and turnips, while today we use the  wonderful berry that is a  pumpkin before having a candle or coals placed in them and set looking away from the property.
The lanterns in popular lore served two purposes – one to draw familiar spirits to them  and the other to scare away mischievous and malicious spirits or beasts that might stalk the night at this time of year.
Indeed, the Jack O’Lantern is also the name given to marsh lights and Will O’The Wisps – those who appear to lost travelers carrying a source of light and then lead them off to a watery end in the marshes or to another world altogether.

–  Much of what we think about for a modern Halloween still fits well in to the Samhain of old and to my mind, there’s little harm in combining the two – though one is arguably more serious and sinister than the other, which only lends a touch of enchantment to a increasingly secular world.

–  At Samhain, the veil between the living and the dead thins, along with other veils that hide our world from creatures of malice and the Fey folk. Yet the thought that our Ancestors are easier to reach than usual can easily fill us with the same giddiness that a child wearing a costume might have. After all, many of us have experienced that happy feeling when we are heading to our grandparent’s home and expecting a sugar high from sweets and cake and being otherwise spoiled.

– One of my own thoughts around the thinning of the veils is to do with the ancient’s understanding of blood as sacred.
From time immemorial, blood has been offered to the Gods and the Spirits as a sacrifice and an honouring. There’s a lot of power in living blood, but it doesn’t stay alive for long.
It might seem peculiar to throw this thought in here, until we look at Samhain as the third period of the harvest  -a harvest of apples and flesh.
As winter closed in, farmers would need to make some hard decisions based on the hay harvest or on foggage (grazing) left in the fields to use over winter.
If too many animals were kept then they would all go hungry and a farmer risked loosing all of their livestock and starving themselves, if too few were kept then a limit was set on meat production the following year  – or the farmer could again loose all, if one fell sick in the winter.
As such, The end of October was a time of slaughter and meat preservation. A lot of life would be taken and a lot of blood spilled to feed the living. So much death always calls to Death by necessity.

– The thinning of the veil also calls to more than just the dead – the Fey and Otherworldly things come through with more ease as well and many modern witches report an increase of spirit and otherwise activity at this time of year. In the past, this was felt too and often those who wouldn’t otherwise practice magic would be compelled to do so.

– The magic practiced at this time of year was often divinatory – meaning literally ‘knowledge from the divine’. People would cast runes and twigs and apple peels to see the initial of their future lover, or they would seek an audience with The Devil to see who would die that coming year.
To do this wasn’t thought of as nefarious by many – the Folk Devil as Master of Magic has always been seen a little differently to the Lord of Hell. [On that note actually, it’s worth saying that biblically speaking, the Devil was cast down to Earth and will only end up in Hell, where he too will be tortured (much wailing and snapping of teeth says the Book of Revelations repeatedly) at the end of days… until then he’s one who moves in this world with the rest of us…. if you follow the Christian mythology of course. A subversion of the Horned Gods of Old or not he, The Devil, has a huge part to play in many forms of witchery.]
It was said that either by sitting in a chair in a crossroads or by attending a church at midnight on All Hallows Eve you’d have a conversation or be listening to the Devil’s service. As a part of which he’d reel off those who were to die in the following year.

– It was also a traditional time to gather grave yard dust or dirt for darker workings or to tend to the graves of those long gone.

– In some areas of Britain it was said that the Faeries moved between barrows (mounded tombs as gateways to the other worlds) twice a year – once at Beltaine (1st May) and once at Samhain. As such, it would be unwise to join in a procession of the fey as you may end up in a different world to be used up and cast out as an ancient while only hours have passed in the outer world… or to be returned as a youth to your town decades or centuries later to see that all has changed and all your loved ones are haggard or dead. Within the Faerie tradition you are more easily trapped if you eat Faerie food.
The Fey folk aren’t human and operate by different set of morals (if any) than we do in lore. Yet, to tempt them in to a deal (a bad move unless you form the small print yourself under the advice of a lawyer) or to bribe them to stay away if you live near a Faerie site, such as a stone circle or barrow or a solitary hawthorn in a field or a copse of Alder etc, you’d leave out milk and beer and unsalted bread… or you’d use bits of old iron, such as horseshoes, nailed to, or by, the door to keep them away.

– With Samhain we enter in to the darkest quarter of the year, or so it seems  as the nights get longer and the days darker and we feel the bite of winter in the very air that we breathe. It’s a time that harbours the first life of many plant and animal species though – from the acorns sending down their first roots, securing themselves and begin ready to sprout come spring; to the stag battling for the right to mate in the rutting season.

– The colours of Autumn are also filling up our sight lines at this time of year, with the crimson and butter yellow of Acers and elms and Ash and the burnt purples and browns of the Manna ash and the drying beech speckling the world around us.
The fallen leaves also frame the oft bright colours of autumn fungi  on the woodland floor while Liberty Caps grow readily in dew soaked longer grass. This is a time of transformation and of birth for the fungi as many throw up reproductive mushrooms, from their hidden mycelium, to scatter spores and grow in number across the world.

– In some of the colder pats of the world, yet those where winter bathing was less frequent, the poor would often be sown in to their clothes with sheets of brown paper fitted between layers to reduce lice and add insulation, preparing or the winter ahead.

– Those same peasant folk, from which many of us are descended, would gather up dried leaves to remake their mattress for the winter if straw or hay was in short supply – echoing the animals that seem to melt in to the landscape over winter. Animals such as the hedgehog or slow worm who find sheltered spaces to stuff with leaves and sleep out the colder weather.

– It is also said that the Druids of ancient times would have netted off some elderberry trees and allowed the fruit to dry and ferment on the tree until Samhain when these fruit would be gathered and added to water to ferment again -this double fermentation of wild yeasts and fungi leading to a psycho active wine that would be drunk the following Samhain to attain prophetic visions.

– As far as deities go, this is often a time of year favoured by modern witches to work with those more haggard aspects of the divine – the Crones and the Lords of Death; those with the power to take away parts of the self that are no longer wanted and to usher in transformation by virtue of the dying of parts of you.

 

 

What to do?

Here are a few ideas for activities that you could do to recognise the time of Samhain:

– Visit the graves of your kith and kin, leaving the gift of an apple or bouquet of autumn leaves. Or create, or update, an Ancestor shrine at home with photos or trinkets from those lost to the past.

–  Take a bag, some tubs or baskets and go on a mushroom foraging walk (trust an expert if you don’t trust yourself and always make sure they are safe to eat). Perhaps dry some mushrooms at home, to practice an ancestral skill.

–  Make a sacrifice yourself to echo the loss and gain of the third harvest of old – perhaps go without meat or dairy for a week. Or give a banquet to he homeless or donations to a food bank. Not all those who have gone before you would have had plenty to eat at this time of year and the generosity of others will have kept them alive – honour their struggle by easing that of a living person or family today.

– Set an extra space at the table on Samhain night and leave the door ajar so that your Ancestors and the dead can come to visit. Maybe even take this a step further and host a dumb supper.  Set up empty spaces on the table and eat in silence by candle light. Maybe even an empty chair per person eating. Allow everyone to serve themselves from platters/bowls in the centre of the table – the dead can have as much as they want that way by means of aroma without letting food go to waste.

–  Go for a long walk to appreciate the colours of Autumn, or a mini pilgrimage to a local grave site or stone circle / barrow/ well. Tidy it up a little if needed – collect litter, perhaps cut back the bracken hiding the stones. Leave nothing that isn’t biodegradable as an offering.

– Leave out a collection of shiny copper coins  or tuck them in to cracks in tombs (don’t damage them to do this though) or walls – that way the restless dead can pay Charon to cross the river Styx (if you or they follow the classical Greek Mythology)

– Consider  going on  a shamanic  journey to  visit your Ancestors in the Underworld. See what they have to teach you. Don’t try to get in to the Land of the Dead in the shamanic worlds though… even extremely well practiced Shamans have been trapped and lost there in the past.

– Set up a circle or working site and invoke an appropriate deity of your choice, or your Ancestors, and speak with them about what you have harvested in your life over the past season or so and what you’d like to harvest in the coming months. Perhaps speak to a Crone Goddess or a Dead/Underworld God and ask them to take away aspects of yourself or your life that no longer serve you or are holding you back.

– Or simply go for a walk in to the woods, or meadows or park and see what changes the season has brought to the land near you.

– Share a libation of mead or wine or beer with the dead – perhaps even in a graveyard.

–  Look at making a witches ladder with bones that you’ve found or saved – hang it in a tree or a hidden place – again make sure you use only biodegradable materials. Your intention is your own business.
Think of bones as the liminal part of the body – the core of the corporeal in life yet the residual parts of living things after death and decay. A link to the dead that we can’t hold easily while they live.

–  Collect the best coloured autumnal leaves as you find them and perhaps make a leaf mask to use for Samhain. Masks are a great way to experience yourself in a different role or as an embodiment of a chosen energy or being.

– Carve a Jack O’Lantern out of what ever takes your fancy – a pumpkin, a turnip, or even an overly large parsnip. Make sure to collect the flesh and make seasonal soup, or wine or pie  – never waste it and a well hollowed pumpkin is one easier to carry too!
Light it up and place it looking out of the property to keep away the malicious spirits and welcome in the good ones.

–  Light a fire and scry in the flames  – add green juniper or smokey foliage to aid your sight

– Leave out milk and unsalted bread and butter to appease the faeries on the top of a wall and leave out cat food on the floor for hedgehogs wanting to fatten themselves up before they sleep (bread and milk gives them bad tummies… aka The Shits)

– look in to traditional divination techniques and local customs for your area and tradition – maybe have a go at the practice of ‘tapping the bone’.

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A brief solo ritual for you to practice.

Rituals are always better with meaning and purpose  that is more than just a recognition and a tugging of one’s  forelock to a deity or time of year.

These words are my own, but not necessarily the ones I frequently use. If you would like to,  please feel free to ad lib or replace with your own words.

Edit if you will, but please cite me as the author if you are sharing (Mark Buxton or this blog).

The circle cast used here is one aimed at connection rather than separation or safety, feel free to use a different one if you feel in need of a more secure space.

This circle is in a similar vein to the majority of Neopagan style circles and is losely based on both a Wiccan and Druid ceremony format.

The purpose of this circle is connection,  this allows for some vulnerability, but  please don’t use this if you are in a place  that creeps you out or feels ‘wrong’;  wait and work elsewhere.

Preparation 

Find your working space. An area with a 9 foot (3 metre) diameter of open ground will be more than sufficient. You will  need a lighter or matches. Please make yourself aware of fire safety.

Mark out the North with a stone and an  unlit candle.
Mark out the East with a  feather (or  jos stick) and an unlit  candle.
Mark out the South with an unlit candle and something golden in colour.
Mark  out the West with a small bowl of water and an unlit candle.

Place a candle, a some cider, apple juice or mead in a glass and an apple or fruit in the centre of your circle. Place also a fire proof dish/ bowl/ cauldron/ pumpkin along with a lit candle. Also have paper, pen and some kindling  ready to go.  Gather also a fresh bundle of green rosemary or sage or juniper. Place also a pitcher or jug of water.

Circle cast

Begin by standing in the centre of what will be your circle.

Take three deep breaths, feeling your lungs fill completely. Feel yourself centred, calm and ready to begin. Face the East.

Extending your finger (or wand, athame, staff or whatever you choose) hold it against your heart. Move your finger to point outwards and be aware of power moving with it.

Feel the energy flowing out of your finger and move your hand slowly to face the East. See that the energy flows out and pools in the air just beyond the Eastern candle, creating a wall that extends both upwards to a point directly above your head and down wards to a point directly below your feet.

Move clockwise, feeling the energy drawing a spherical curtain around you. As you move say the words below. Keep moving in a clockwise direction (deosil) until you reach East again.

A circle of Joy I wind around me like a cloak,
A sphere of presence and of love,
These walls borne of my own spirit,
weaving a circle of connection,
A circle of power, joy and strength
Shared with the world around me.

Once you have reached the East pull your hand back in towards your chest and  allow yourself to feel the presence of the sphere of your own energy around you.

Walk to the East and say:

Hail to the East, place of dawn and the Spirits of Air!
Spirits of the Mighty Winds and Living Breath!
Come also all of my Ancestors from the East.
I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Eastern Candle

Move to the South and say:

Hail to the South, place of the midday sun and the Spirits of Fire!
Spirits of the flickering flame and the body’s chemical fires!
Come also all of my Ancestors from the South.

I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Southern Candle

Walk to the West and say:

Hail to the West, place of dusk and the Spirits of Water!
Spirits of the Falling Rain and the water in  my flesh!
Come also all of my Ancestors from the West.
I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Western Candle

Walk to the North and say:

Hail to the North, place of Midnight and the Spirits of Earth!
Spirits of the fertile soils, stones and bones!
Come also all of my Ancestors from the North.
I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Northern Candle

Walk back to the centre of your circle.  Bend and touch the Earth beneath you, then stand and reach up to the heavens.  Lowering your hand and tuning the full  circle where you are say:

Ancestors of my blood, Ancestors of this land and Ancestors of my Tradition I call to you!
Spirits of this Place and of this Time, Those seen and unseen,
With the thinning veil of Samhain
I call for you to lend me your ears, 

Walk with me and guide me in my ways.
I ask that you join me and watch over my  rites

Place your burning bowl / pumpkin in the centre of the circle and light a small fire therein. Save some of the paper for later. Once the fire is going well carry on with the working.
Alternatively, if doing this inside, light a tealight in your bowl.

Spend a few minutes in silent thought and clearly write on the slips of paper anything that you wish to give away. Perhaps an aspect of your life that doesn’t serve you or an ailment, addiction or aspect of your life that has held you back from your goals. Be strictly honest with yourself, if it is caused by your actions or words then take that aspect of yourself rather than blaming another or a situation.

Kneel or stand in front of the items in the centre of the circle facing west and look in to the flames. Add more wood if you need to do so, but keep the fire small.

Speak now to the flames while looking deeply in to them;

I call to the guardians of the Western Gate
To the keepers of the Underworld,
To the Goddesses of the Dead,
Persephone, Hel, Mania, Calleach and Morrighan,
To the Gods of the the Dead
Arawn, Anubis, Erebus, Odin and Dis Pater
[note: please feel free to replace the deities with simply ‘those who keep the dead and the land of the dead’]

I call to my Ancestors to open the path and line the way
May your presence here be blessed by the smoke of sweet herbs.

Place the herbs thinly on top of the flames and let them smoke.

I offer you these parts of my life,
these slivers of myself
To break, remove and renew
as the smoke clears let them be taken away.

Cast the slips of paper with your writing on, one by one in to the fire and watch them burn.
Sit for a while until the smoke from the paper and the herbs is gone. See and feel the things you want rid of disappear and dissipate along with the smoke.

Take time to meditate if you need to.

Take up the apple now and eat it along with a sip or more of the mead/wine. As you do so, see and feel the apple replenish you. Feel the rough edges left by the removal of your written offerings smoothed over and yourself being made whole again without that which you have cast aside.

Once completed, stand up and pour a little of the mead/ wine on to the fire as a thank you to the Ancestors. Before raising your glass to each of the directions in turn and taking a sip. Pour a little of the mead in to the water jug and then set the mead down while raising the jug up.

 

Say:

With mead / wine sweetened water I give thanks,
thanks to the Goddesses and the Gods of the Dead, 
I pray you ever guide me and comfort me when my time is due, 
But today I hope it is not even close,
I offer thanks to my Ancestors who today have lined the way.
I offer thanks to the vehicle of fire,
that I shall light again another time.

Pour the water on to the fire and put it out fully.

Drink the rest of the mead or wine , or pour it as a libation to the spirits of the circle.

 

 

 

Closing

Facing the North say the following

Spirits of the North and Earth
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Facing the West say the following

Spirits of the West and Water.
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Facing the South say the following

Spirits of the South and Fire
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Facing the East say the following

Spirits of the East and Air.
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Standing in the centre of the circle and turning round say:

Spirits of this Time and Place, This Land and of All my Ancestors
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell,
Walk with me as you will.

Stand in the centre and face East

Reach out with your finger (wand etc)  and see the energy of the circle begin to flow back  in to your body as you turn anticlockwise winding all your energy back in.

Once done say:

This rite is now complete and done, I return  to the apparent World.

Put out the quarter candles.

Once the rite is done, drain off the water from the remains of you fire. Set any charcoal or partly burned wood to one side to dry. You can use these to start a fire another time to work with the dead or scrying or even to light your yule fire in a few weeks time.

 

You can listen to the podcast version of this blog here:

http://directory.libsyn.com/episode/index/id/4780086

or here:

http://inspirallingleafsgrove.libsyn.com/samhain-thoughts-ideas-and-a-solo-ritual

or a direct download here:

Or find it on the Apple podcast app here: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/podcast/in-spirallingleafs-groves/id1085068982?mt=2

 

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Stone Stack Shrines – mini altars to the Spirits of Place and Time.

 

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I’ve found myself building more and more stone stack shrines these last few months, and some of that could be a reflection of what’s going on in my own life. Yet, I suspect that a lot of it is due to the fact that I’m being called to build them by the Spirits of the places I visit.

I cannot recall a time before which I enjoyed making simple things by hand. Don’t get me wrong, I found wood work and any ‘technology’ class other than cooking to be incredibly dull and frustrating – at no point have I ever wanted to make something according to a curriculum not of my choosing.
The sea of inspiration smacks hard against the wall of  a curriculum without room for creativity… and like a fish leaping from the sea to find itself hurtling wetly towards a wall, the otherwise inspired suffer much from it.

There’s a simple beauty to be found when a rock or  log or similar can be stacked or worked with to create a change in the landscape that engenders a recognition that there is something other than the self in a site when stumbled upon by another. An echo of what is and what was, possibly moments before, possibly centuries.

Stone stacks are found all over the world and in varying sizes and shapes – I claim no artistry here, as I have seen some stone balancers who truly have made it in to an art form. The ones made by my hands will never win awards, but they echo the voices of the places they are found – rough, unshod and if not wary then belligerent.
My little shrines are a mixture of the ephemeral and almost permanent – they both have their value.

In the woods, I sometime stack sticks from a fallen tree, in the form of a stepped pyramid, grids of sticks lined up  to form a pyramid, but that’s rare as I’d hate for them to become an invitation to light a pyre for local pyromaniac youths. More often in the woods, I slide feathers in to cracks in bark. Done at eye height; a deliberate change. A recognition of the tree and the bird; designed to be seen.

I have in the past also made witch’s ladders from bones and compostable twine (or cordage), and hung these from branches in trees.
With the coming of the winds, the bones sing an odd and jaunty rattle as if glad to be granted movement again. While the feathers flutter until they are knocked aloft, flying once again; even if momentarily.

Yet, more recently I’ve been called to make more and more of these little stone stacks out in the middle of seemingly nowhere – the desolate moor, the cliff top, the stream bed, the beach at dawn. Or, as in the pictures above, on a recent Circle of Pagans Trip to Anglesey, in a cove just beneath Barclodiad-y-Gawres Burial Chamber as part of a mini ceremony of gratitude to Mon.

It’s a compulsion almost, my hands tingle, the Spirits of the place seem to add a gloss to exactly the right rocks to use and whisper… and so the back pack is dropped and some time is spent  making these structures; with me seemingly at play.

So I thought I’d share a few from a recent visit to the Isle of Man and my time on Anglezarke moor – both places where Mannanan’s presence is strongly felt, both landscapes that seem open but that hide a lot… but Mannanan is a topic for another blog post or two.

The majority of stone stacks will survive for a long time if in a sheltered spot. Some can be made in to pretty permanent things, but often the top third or so falls off with a strong wind or when a passing animal uses it as a scratching post.

Using big stones in a big and barren landscape was an Inuit tradition. It can be awfully lonely out on the tundra and the iced up sea when out hunting, fishing or walking.
To combat the loneliness, they would build big stone stacks on the shore line, enough that they could be seen by passing boats and to act as a reminder that you aren’t alone, nor are you lost. Others have been this way before you and will come this way again.
In many cases it would be remembered who had built which stack and so, as they were seen, you’d remember a family member or a friend.

 

Many of the small ones pictured, will be little more than one stone tall now. They are built in exposed areas. It pleases me in someways to know that I’ve given the Wind something to play with.

For me, making these isn’t about achieving any form of immortality, nor is it to be remembered in the short term. They’re made by going with the flow of inspiration received while out in these places. They are made to recognise the dynamism of the spirit there; and as such they should be changeable, movable and yet still obvious while they exist.

Some however are built in such a way as to give others a tingle as they come around a corner in to a landscape speckled with stone stacks shrines, they know about it. There’s an eeriness in the air and a giddy energy – the Spirits of the Place and Time are recognised even by the non-magical traveler.

 

It’s rare for me to aim for permanence, but sometimes that’s what’s called for. In the pictures below you can see a stone stack on Anglezarke moor, made in a place of exposed stones, where I’m pretty sure they’re from a a naturally exposed ridge rather than a settlement footprint. Either way the spot blasts out potency and I made a simple stack on my first time  visiting.
A couple of weeks later I was in the area again and checked on how the stack was doing, it had lost the top third or so of it’s stones in the windy weather. As I began to rebuild it inspiration came in that led me to make it more resilient and more likely to survive for a long time… it’s now a little over a metre tall and about 60cm across at the widest point. It’ll be checked up on and the Spirits greeted next time I’m up there.

 

Quite to the contrary though, it’s just as important to make things of fleeting presence – a sacrifice of energy and awareness.
As such, I often find myself creating seaside stone temples in miniature whenever I’m on a stony beach.

The images below show a small, not quite, stack shrine and a metre wide shrine, made on the beach. The stones were just south and east of the point of Ayre on the Isle of Man. Within ten minute the sea had rushed in to claim them, leaving no trace after a few waves had broken over it. Although it took quite a few more waves than anticipated to fell all of the stones.

The resistance of both of these little structures to the sea’s advances is oddly hope giving.

What we might expect to be washed away in mere moments, we find stands strong until almost fully submerged by rolling waves.

It’s long been said that there’s a  beauty in decay and as you watch the work you made to be eaten, slowly become other than it was – returned to it’s constituents, that beauty creeps in to the mind.
It’s almost as though the same beings that suggested you build it just here and with these exact rocks and in this pattern are also reminding you that the world is rife with impermanence. Showing that even the strongest of us will find peace from the ceaseless conflict of change, of becoming and unbecoming, if we surrender to that which makes us what we are in the here and now.  Or it will come if we wait it out for the greater whole of the world to subsume us again in it’s regenerative embrace.

There’s a power in accepting how vulnerable we are, how mortal we are, in the grand scheme of things. Whether you believe in reincarnation or otherwise, this life, this form, this self will never exist again in exactly the same way after we are gone.

The ephemeral nature of life and being means that every breath we share with others truly is a blessing – we gift ourselves to those we spend time with, as they do to us.
And so, from the apparent permanence of stone we can catch  a glimpse of our own mortality and smile, knowing we are truly gifted with the present moment… even if not all present moments are nice or pleasing.

Finally though, there’s another blessing that stone stack building can convey; enchantment.

By leaving a foot print free stone shrine on a beach, or in a landscape known for it’s magical properties, we can keep the world a little bit more magical for those who find it.
Like this one, done shortly after dawn on Ramsey beach, Isle of Man. It’d be hours before the sea came in and hours before the beach was filled with children… enough time for the wind to hide my footprints and for the mischief found both in myself and in the Spirit of that place to leave a little mystery and hopefully a little enchantment for those who found it.

And then, finally, if not kicked over, it’d become a sacrifice to the Sea God Mannan.
A sacrifice freely given and made of my time at play.

 

Mabon, Autumn Equinox – a Circle of Pagans ritual

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In a previous blog post I mentioned  that I hold the role of ‘Ritualist’ for the Circle of Pagans moot.

This is a longstanding moot that serves Liverpool  and the surrounding area as well as any one else who might be passing through.

Part of my role is to create simple rituals for each of the eight spokes of the Neo-pagan wheel of the year. These are rituals that anyone can follow, regardless of how new they are to their pagan path or their ritual experience.

The rituals are based on Wiccan, Druid and Traditional Witchcraft ceremonies;  like most followed by Neopagans today.

They are rituals that can be used by sole practitioners or adapted to group use easily; feel free to tweak them until they suit you and yours.

Circle of Pagans aims to share knowledge and reach out to the wider community. Which is why I thought I’d post the rituals on my blog for others to see, adapt and use.

So here we go……..

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Mabon, Autumn Equinox ritual:

Thoughts:

– In today’s world, it can sometimes be a bit of a mystery a to why things are celebrated, but the equinoxes are some of the most self explanatory. An equinox happens twice a year, once in Spring (Vernal equinox) and once in Autumn. Mabon, as it’s come to be known is the Autumn equinox.
Equinox means ‘equal night’, this refers to the hours of daylight and darkness being equally matched. Either side of this day Summer and Winter can be said to be reigning.

–  The autumnal equinox usually falls on either the 21st or 22nd of September. To the casual observer it looks as though there is a period of around three days where the day and night are almost identical in length to each other, or at least it does here in the UK.

–  After the Autumnal equinox, the number of hours in darkness, will be greater than those in light each 24 hour period, until we hit the Spring equinox.

–  Recognising the changing tides of day and night, can be reason enough to make this a special day. Here, with the equinox, the summer officially ends and we step ever further in to the darkness.

–  Agriculturally and horticulturally speaking, this is the time of the second major harvest. The grain crops and hay crops would have been gathered in around the beginning of August (Lammas) and now the plants in the vegetable garden have started to run out of vigour. Yet, at the same time apples, pears, quince, medlar, late plums and grapes are suddenly showing up; swollen against the back drop of slowly changing leaves.

– Although, historically, many of these fruit would be picked over a long season between now and the start of November (Samhain), many would now be gathered and checked over. The best of the fruits would be stored in barrels or in the cool airy rafters of the lofts of cottages.
While the fruit that would not store so well, or indeed was grown especially for it, would be chopped and pressed and funneled in to barrels to make what is the second most holy drink in my opinion: cider.
(With mead being the first… arguably a place shared with a sensually good red wine or a smooth whiskey).

– Cider making was a communal activity and a magic all of it’s own. Cider vinegar was also made at this time to help preserve the last of the seasons vegetables as strong chutney or pickles.In more modern times, canning of vegetables and fruits would also have been common place.

–  Crops like plums may well have been dried, while quince and medlar would be picked and left to soften, or blet, as in begin to rot, in the case of the medlar, before being used.

–   All these foods are the flavour and nutrient givers to the carbohydrate crops of grain and potatoes and similar harvested back in August, with these prepared, stored and fermenting the prospect of Winter wouldn’t seem quite so bleak to people living a peasant  life.

–  Although the mists would be coming in more frequently and the dew wetting one’s feet in the morning, this time of year also marks a productive time in the hedge row, with rowan, hawthorn, elder and black berries ripe for picking. The obviously generous nature of the Land could not be missed.

–  In modern Druidry, the Autumn equinox is known as Alban Elfed – the light on the water. As the sun lowers to a point where it reflects strongly off the sea and sets in to the West, which is associated with autumn and the third quarter of the year, and , indeed our lives

–  September is often a time of seemingly confused weather as the heat of summer meets the wetness of Autumn; and although the midday can be too hot, the nights can be too cold for comfort. A balance on average, but spiked in experience.

–  Many call this festival Mabon, named after a Welsh deity. Mabon ap Modron appears to us in the tale of in the tale of Culhwch ac Olwen as man, who as a child was stolen from his mothers arms when he was three nights old and locked away in a castle dungeon for milennia. Culhwch, becomes infatuated with Olwen, the daughter of a giant, Ysbaddaden, neither of which he has met, after a he’s cursed for not wanting to marry his stepsister.  Families eh?
A battle ensues and Ysbaddaden is wounded before agreeing that Culhwch can marry Olwen if he performs a series of impossible tasks.
One of these tasks is to hunt down Twrch Trwyth , a giant boar. Twrch Trwyth can only be tracked by Drudwyn, a dog that can only be mastered, so prophecy says, by Mabon ap Modron… as such Culwch and crew head off to find him and in doing so end up speaking to the oldest animals in existence including a devious hawk, an ancient owl, a haggard old stag and a geriatric salmon.

It’s a tale worth reading.

–  The woodland floor is now starting to be come decked with fallen nuts – hazelnuts, acorn and beech mast. And as such, just like Twrch Trwyth, wild boar and pigs would have been moved in to the woodlands to fatten up ahead of the more brutal harvest found at Samhain in six weeks time.

–  The equinox is a time of balance and is a seasonal threshold – perhaps the first leaves are changing colour; shirking their pleasant greens for vibrant painted skins. Perhaps the seed heads of wild grasses have started to bow towards the ground in an aged shade of brown. Perhaps the wildlife is starting to prepare hibernation nests and perhaps hedgehogs and foxes are seen more  as they forage from nature’s bounty to put on weight enough to survive the winter.

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Mushrooms are every where… little ones like this don’t take up much room 😉

 

 

 

What to do?

Here are a few ideas for activities that you could do to recognise the time of Mabon, the Autumn Equinox:

–  Read the tale of Mabon ap Modron – there are a several versions and it’s worth reading a few so that the sense of the connection to the time of year sinks in.

–  Take a bag, some tubs or baskets and go on a mushroom foraging walk (trust an expert if you don’t trust yourself and always make sure they are safe to eat). Perhaps dry some mushrooms at home, to practice an ancestral skill.

–  Go on a berry and nut foraging walk, make some jam or chutney, or even fruit leather. taste the landscape as you go.
If you are feeling brave you could look up how to safely make yew berry tart. The pinky red flesh around the seeds is the only edible part of the yew tree and they taste somewhat like raspberries but with the texture of snot. Never eat the seed or leaves, bark or buds of the yew tree though… they are likely to kill you.

–  Even better, get up early and go walking in the dew found on grassy lands. Take time to appreciate spiders webs as they bear droplets of water, like flowing crystal gems.
Don’t forget to say hello to the large Orb spiders that weave webs that dominate the spaces between paths. These beautiful lady spiders with egg swollen abdomens, naturally painted in beautiful markings, could even lead you to looking in to Arianrhod as a goddess of weaving and spider like accuracy.

– Go out to a woodland or park near you and gather some acorns from under oak trees. Perhaps you would even like to plant some to further the next generation of oak trees. Plant them while still fresh and in a place they will grow well.

– Consider  going on  a shamanic  journey to  visit Mabon ap Modron, or the Guardian of Autumn, or one of the Ancient Animals mentioned in the tale. They can both often be found in the middle or lower worlds. Ask what lessons they have for you and what adventures they’d take if they were in your shoes. You don’t have to act these adventures out though if they are a bit much!

– Set up a circle or working site and invoke an appropriate deity of your choice, or your Ancestors, and speak with them about what you have harvested in your life over the past season or so and what you’d like to harvest in the coming months.

– Or simply go for a walk in to the woods, or meadows or park and see what changes the season has brought to the land near you.

– Have a go at making cider or elderberry wine and perhaps take a toast of a ready cider or mead to a liminal place, such as the beach or moorland and offer it as a libation to the Spirits there and of the time.

–  Collect the best coloured autumnal leaves as you find them and perhaps make a leaf mask to use for Samhain in due time.

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Berries of the Guelder Rose start to deepen to red

A brief solo ritual for you to practice.

Rituals are always better with meaning and purpose  that is more than just a recognition and a tugging of one’s  forelock to a deity or time of year.

These words are my own, but not necessarily the ones I frequently use. If you would like to,  please feel free to ad lib or replace with your own words.

Edit if you will, but please cite me as the author if you are sharing (Mark Buxton or this blog).

The circle cast used here is one aimed at connection rather than separation or safety, feel free to use a different one if you feel in need of a more secure space.

This circle is in a similar vein to the majority of Neopagan style circles and is losely based on both a Wiccan and Druid ceremony format.

The purpose of this circle is connection,  this allows for some vulnerability, but  please don’t use this if you are in a place  that creeps you out or feels ‘wrong’;  wait and work elsewhere.

Preparation 

Find your working space. An area with a 9 foot (3 metre) diameter of open ground will be more than sufficient. You will  need a lighter or matches. Please make yourself aware of fire safety.

Mark out the North with a stone and an  unlit candle.
Mark out the East with a  feather (or  jos stick) and an unlit  candle.
Mark out the South with an unlit candle and something golden in colour.
Mark  out the West with a small bowl of water and an unlit candle.

Place a candle, a dark bowl of water (ideally dew or spring water collected from your local area) an apple and some fresh acorns in the centre. A small amount of cider, apple juice or mead can be placed in a glass in the centre as well. You will also need a knife, this can be an athame, boline or penknife depending upon how you use your tools.

Circle cast

Begin by standing in the centre of what will be your circle.

Take three deep breaths, feeling your lungs fill completely. Feel yourself centred, calm and ready to begin. Face the East.

Extending your finger (or wand, athame, staff or whatever you choose) hold it against your heart. Move your finger to point outwards and be aware of power moving with it.

Feel the energy flowing out of your finger and move your hand slowly to face the East. See that the energy flows out and pools in the air just beyond the Eastern candle, creating a wall that extends both upwards to a point directly above your head and down wards to a point directly below your feet.

Move clockwise, feeling the energy drawing a spherical curtain around you. As you move say the words below. Keep moving in a clockwise direction (deosil) until you reach East again.

A circle of Joy I wind around me like a cloak,
A sphere of presence and of love,
These walls borne of my own spirit,
weaving a circle of connection,
A circle of power, joy and strength
Shared with the world around me.

Once you have reached the East pull your hand back in towards your chest and  allow yourself to feel the presence of the sphere of your own energy around you.

Walk to the East and say:

Hail to the East, place of dawn and the Spirits of Air!
Spirits of the Mighty Winds and Living Breath!
I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Eastern Candle

Move to the South and say:

Hail to the South, place of the midday sun and the Spirits of Fire!
Spirits of the flickering flame and the body’s chemical fires!
I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Southern Candle

Walk to the West and say:

Hail to the West, place of dusk and the Spirits of Water!
Spirits of the Falling Rain and the water in  my flesh!
I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Western Candle

Walk to the North and say:

Hail to the North, place of Midnight and the Spirits of Earth!
Spirits of the fertile soils, stones and bones!
I ask that you join me and watch over me in my rites.

Light the Northern Candle

Walk back to the centre of your circle.  Bend and touch the Earth beneath you, then stand and reach up to the heavens.  Lowering your hand and tuning the full  circle where you are say:

Ancestors of my blood, Ancestors of this land and Ancestors of my Tradition I call to you!
Spirits of this Place and of this Time, Those seen and unseen,
Walk with me and guide me in my ways.
I ask that you join me and watch over my  rites

Sit in the centre of the circle and meditate or dwell on what this second wave of harvest has brought you or will bring you. Try to recall all of the changes in the natural world, or the plants and such growing in your local area, that have marked this out as the Autumnal equinox.

Consider  whether or not you have experienced any change as the Equniox arrives. Perhaps your clothes are now heavier and warmer? Perhaps you diet is suddenly more filled with starches and heavier fattier foods? Or perhaps it would be if you gave in to the cravings?

Kneel or stand in front of the items in the centre of the circle now.

Taking the apple, anoint it with dew water, seeing the blessing of the Autumn, of harvests and richness sink in to it.
Hold the apple with the stem towards the sky and cut through it’s centre horizontally.

Look down at the cross cut core of the apple and you will see it is shaped as a star, a pentagram. Note that this gift of the season and Earth displays the five pointed star at it’s centre.

Become aware of the pentagram being a symbol of balance between the four magical elements of Earth, Air Fire and Water, along with the Essence of Spirit.

Place half of the apple on the ground and eat the other half. Focusing on nothing but the taste, texture and pleasure of eating.

Once done, say:

The Earth’s fruits have nourished me with insights and joy,
Half I have imbibed, Half I leave,
A gift to me is a shared gift with All.
May this half be a blessing to another creature of the Earth.

 

Touch the second half off the apple and leave it on the floor.
Pick up the bowl of water and place it on the ground in front of you.
Place the candle behind the bowl and light it.

Say:

I seek now to look for my memories of success and for what is to become.
I seek the knowledge hidden in the Light on the Water.
I ask my Ancestors to show me what joy is yet to be harvested,
to remind me of a task not yet attended to. 

Pause, breathe and look deeply in to the reflective surface, allow your eyes to defocus. Spend some time here and if you are meant to see something you will.
Scrying, as this is, does not come easily for many. Do not rush; take your time.

Reflect on what you see, if, indeed, you see anything.

Once done, step back from the bowl and thank the Ancestors thus:

I offer you my gratitude,
The Light on the Water i now return again to you,
The blessings of a past harvest and a long and fortuitous future life,
I ask for here with this offering of acorns.

Snuff the candle out with wet fingers and drop the acorns in to the bowl of water.

Now take up the cider, apple juice or mead. Walk to the East and pour a little on to the floor, say:

A libation for the start of the year, a spring well raised.

Walk to the South and pour a little on to the floor, say:

A libation for the height of the year, a summer well grown .

Walk to the West and pour a little on to the floor, say:

A libation for the present hour, a harvest well given.

Walk to the North and pour a little on to the floor, say:

A libation for the end of the year, a Winter yet to pass.

Walk back to the centre and pour a little on to the floor, say:

A libation for those gone before and all in attendance.
Blessings upon you
and may your blessings be upon me.

Drink the remaining contents of the cup or bottle.

 

 

 

 

Closing

Facing the North say the following

Spirits of the North and Earth
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Facing the West say the following

Spirits of the West and Water.
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Facing the South say the following

Spirits of the South and Fire
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Facing the East say the following

Spirits of the East and Air.
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell.

Standing in the centre of the circle and turning round say:

Spirits of this Time and Place, This Land and of All my Ancestors
I thank you for watching over my rite,
I offer blessings and farewell,
Walk with me as you will.

Stand in the centre and face East

Reach out with your finger (wand etc)  and see the energy of the circle begin to flow back  in to our body as you turn anticlockwise winding all your energy back in.

Once done say:

This rite is now complete and done, I return  to the apparent World.

Put out the quarter candles.

The water can now be emptied in the West and the acorns gathered up.
These can be planted in pots outside, or in patches of soil on your journeys over the next three days.
As the trees grow, so too should your blessings asked for or seen in the ritual.
Listen to  the  ritual via my podcast  here:

Try: http://traffic.libsyn.com/inspirallingleafsgrove/Mabon_COP__2016.mp3

or: http://inspirallingleafsgrove.libsyn.com/mabon-the-autumnal-equinox-a-circle-of-pagans-ritual

or: http://directory.libsyn.com/episode/index/id/4676504

 

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Alban Elfed – the Light on the water.

Anglezarke Ambling Part 1

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A few years ago a conversation furnished me with knowledge of a neolithic site on moorland not too far from home, more importantly it told me where exactly it was.

It then took me quite a while to get around to going and seeing it but eventually I did. The Pikestones are a passage grave up on Anglezarke moor, near Chorley and not too far from Rivington Gardens and the magical landscape that it offers.
The site itself sits on the edge of the West Pennine moors and once you’ve found it the eye is drawn out on to the moorland -a few extra steps revealing spongy ground and muddy sheep tracks. The few times I had previously visited I didn’t ventured very far in any direction due to rain and mud and biting flies as much as due to a lack of time.

Recently, though, I had a day off, simply an opportunistic day, booked to elongate a Bank Holiday weekend. On that day I woke with a chilled feeling but  a calling to head up to the Pikestones. As the morning passed the chilled feeling remained and so did the call to visit the stones, with a growing sensation that I would be meeting someone up there.

Now, I’ve mentioned how desolate the place can be and the passage grave itself is neither visible from the road nor very well known about in the local area, so the chance of meeting another up there is rare, the narrow paths being more than frequently hidden under flowering grasses and reeds.

My sensation of being too relaxed to do anything suddenly evaporated and I headed out the door with a sensation that the timing was now right.

However, the thought didn’t go  away and as I prepared to head up towards the reservoir next to the moors I found myself assuming that it might be a friend who I was taking to via social media. However, it turned out that Tara was actually far down south at present so couldn’t come along despite my invitation. As such the mystery continued and I started to doubt that there would be any meeting on the physical plane.

Pulling in to the small car parking space at Jepson’s Gate and grabbing my rucksack I locked the car and hopped over the stile before meandering through the rushes and grasses to the top right corner of the field.

Pikestones; passage grave

 

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Through the passage 

Here, enclosed by a wire fence, is a large  patch of longer grass tinted red and brown. Sharing this space are rushes and flowering heather. Hoping over another stile in to the field I walk the almost hidden path, noticing that the grass is bent in a few places; someone had been here pretty recently.
In the centre of the patch the Pikestones sit, a few left upright, a sunken cairn and a few piles of rocks cover a 45 metre by 18 metre piece of ground. The Standing stones are the remnant of the passage grave.

I walk around the stones, touching a few here and there while greeting the spirit of the place. Suddenly though, my eyes alight upon a walking stick lodged in to a crevice next to a low lying rock. The stick is carved like a snake, with brass tacks for eyes and a small area of damage disfiguring it’s head.
Well… I wondered… is this an offering by the last visitor? A gift to the space?

As I sit and eat my food, placing an apple and a biscuit on the space for the dead to remember the tastes of food, I ponder the history of the site.

From what I’ve read the site once had a double wall around it which curved inwards to form a forecourt of sorts on the easternmost side, with the passage running North to South.. This lead to a double capped fifteen metre long passage grave that was used to house the bones of the dead after the wildlife had striped them of flesh. Sadly the site has been badly damaged in the past and now only one cap stone sits atop the uprights with the other having slipped and other stones are scattered rather than placed. This is the oldest known feature in the local landscape with other sites thought to be Mesolithic or Bronze age.

There’s also a piece of more modern graffiti in the style of a spiral cut in to the stone in one section (now worked over by someone else with a chisel to be very vague). As well as someone’s name on another stone.

Despite this the site still has a potent presence and it must have taken a huge effort to build for the local people of the time.

As I sit pondering, gently heading in to a meditation, the site seems to buzz briefly and i open my eyes and look to the stile I had entered the enclosure by. Sure enough, a man was walking towards me.

‘Right on time,’ I thought.

After a fifty minute, thoroughly enjoyable conversation,  I find out that Alan is has been retired for  little more than a year and that the walking stick was his. He’d left it that morning while on a rare visit to the site with his Granddaughter and had come back to collect it.
He was surprised to see anyone up here, let alone to fall in to conversation so readily. Alan, it turns out, is a gold mine of information, mainly on Egypt and temples but also many other thing.
While talking Alan directs me to Round loaf Cairn not too far away and we also discuss the chances of other ancient sites on the moss and the curious shape of Rivington in the distance. He recall a memory of other cairns in the area, that were more stone and less grass when he as a lad.

After a drink on my part and a cigarette on his, Alan gathers up his stick and we head our separate ways. A fortuitous meeting indeed.

Encouraged by Alan’s words I decide to head towards Round Loaf cairn… but that’s coming in the next blog post along with some other ancient oddities that were found.

 

 

Sefton Park – a Circle of Pagan’s adventure

 

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On 27th August,  I had the great pleasure of leading a walk and talk around Sefton Park, Liverpool.
I’ve only visited the park once before and even then only for a couple of hours, but in discussion with Moot Lord Brian (I was right… he’s too humble to like the name Moot Chief, so I thought I’d step it up one), we agreed that it was a nicely central and easily accessible location.

Sefton Park contains 235 acres  of land that is devoted to trees, football pitches and even an old palm house that just screams it’s heritage as you walk past it.

Rather than recount the full five-ish hour walk, not including eating time,  I thought I’d mention a couple of the more unusual  finds in the park.

As we walked, we talked about the folklore and uses of some of the more commonly found plants; from yew, to juniper, to oak and sycamore and beech and beyond.

Yew of course is more than a little toxic and it’s botanical name, Taxus, even gives us the origins of the word ‘Toxic’. Taxus itself coming form the old Greek work ‘Taxa’ meaning bow. As we know, arrows and bows combine to make a deadly tool.

We also saw a nice array of other plants that would of you a good deal of harm  as we walked, but in this blog post I hope only to draw your attention to two types of trees and two types of gall.

Let’s start with the Galls.

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A Turkey Oak acorn, Quercus cerris.

Galls are distorted growths on a tree and I’ll do a more in depth blog about them in the future. Some, such as Maple blister galls, are caused by mites feeding on the leaves, but some of the most impressive ones are made by species of wasp.

Some of these wasps are tiny, while others are around the size of a housefly as an adult, but they are not the sugar loving and super stingy hornet like wasp that many fear.

On several Quercus robur, the English Oak, we spotted a number of Knopper galls. The wasp which causes Knopper galls has an interesting life cycle with female wasps laying eggs that house male grubs on the Turkey Oak, Quercus cerris, in the spring and a sexually reproductive part of the cycle involving the English Oak.

Like several wasp and be species, unfertilised eggs hatch in to male offspring.

These hatch and then make small galls on the Turkey Oak buds before mating with female wasps which lay their eggs almost exclusively on the English Oak’s developing acorns.

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Quercus robur, English Oak, with a Knopper gall acorn

 

These acorns are then distorted, and  often rendered infertile by the developing galls. Inside each of the galls is  developing wasp grub which feeds off the flesh on the inside of the gall.  The shape and form of the galls can vary massively.

Interestingly, although Turkey Oak was introduced in to the UK In 1735,  Andricus quercuscalicis, the wasp responsible, only arrived in the 196os. The wasp requires the presence of both oak species before it can complete it’s life cycle.

Sadly, some English oaks are so over stocked by these funky galls that they don’t produce any fertile acorns in some years.

As an observation on my part, Turkey Oak seems to be out competing our native oaks as young saplings, as well as naturalising in to areas of previously industrial  land with a greater readiness than our natives. It wouldn’t surprise me if climate change is lending a hand to the Turkey oak and it may well become a dominant tree in the landscape in years to come.

 

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Gouty / horned gall

The second gall is either a horned Gall, with few horns or a Gouty Gall with a couple of horns – both again caused by wasps and in this instance growing at the junctions of twigs on a Turkey Oak and spotted by the keen eyed Druid known as, Badger.

I’ve certainly not seen many of these in the past, but they are fascinating ( the galls as well as the Badger named Druids).

And now on to two trees.

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The first tree is the Metasequoia glyptostroboides, The Dawn Redwood. This Chinese native was only known in fossil records at least 1.5 million years old until a living one as found.

The fossil record trees were spotted in 1941 and were named as Metasequoia, meaning ‘like sequoia’, with no known specimens in the word, until in 1943 Zhan Wang, a Chinese forester found a huge tree as pat of the local peoples shrine in what is now Moudao, Lichuan county. This huge tree was propagated and can now be found with it’s beautiful trunk and burnt caramel scented foliage all over the world, although it’s still rare.

There are at least two of these in the park, but this one has a gloriously characterful trunk.

It’s closest relatives are the Swamp and Giant redwoods of North America.

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The final highlight for me was encountering Staphlea pinnata, the European Bladdernut.  This multi-stemmed shrubby plant has beautiful pea like flowers and is a distant relation of the pea.
These flowers become air filled bladder like pods which each bear several small seeds. Seeds which look like popcorn that hasn’t fully popped but taste like pistachio mixed with fresh pea shoots.

Delightful. Obviously I gathered some seeds to sow, but the require a long period of heat and then cold and even then can be erratic to germinate. So … next time I’m in the park I’ll take a few cuttings as they root readily according to my research. These might well be guerrilla planted.

This species is apparently native to Europe, but not frequently seen. I at first, incorrectly, assumed it was the American Bladdernut.

I had seen these bladder bearing plants in a Permaculture book many years ago, but this was the first time I had seen them in the flesh… well, at least fruiting. It turns out that I had seen it’s close relative Staphlyea bumalda  in flower when over in Ireland earlier in the year.

The Staphylea genus only has 11 species in it, so I can excuse myself for getting them muddled up a little.

 

Circle of Pagans – Angelsey Trip July 2016

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On the 30th July 2016 a rag taggle group of pagans met outside the Liverpool Word museum.
They greeted each other warmly and waited. They were not, as one might presume, waiting for the correct magical hour to begin their journey, but they were waiting or a magnificent Metallic white steed. Within this steed would be found others of their kind. Pam , driver for the day and Brian E, organiser of the day.

The steed like minibus was a little late due to traffic. Which gave plenty of time for the pagans to get bored and to do pagan things, like chat and search for the local toilet… which led one member of the group to excitedly rummage in the foliage of the trees. For it turns out that there are some unusual trees n the gardens at the front of the museum.

Trees like Ailanthus altissima (the tree of heaven) and Catalpha bignonioides (Indian Bean tree) as well as Persian Iron woods and others  -all in mature splendour.

But enough about trees in Liverpool … you want to read about Anglesey and the things discovered there.

As you might expect from a group of pagans we’d all booked passage on the white steed in order to visit ancient sites on the sacred isle of Yns Mon.

Bryn Celli Ddu

53°12’28.32N  004.14’07.79W

After a relatively short journey, the metallic steed-come-minibus arrived at Bryn Celli Ddu, meeting up with others of the party who had made their own way to the location independently.

Walking down the path towards the tomb revelaed a hedgerow rich in witchy pants such as the poisonous Black Briony ( Dioscorea communis) with it’s still green berries an Woody Nightshade (Solanum Dulcamara). Turning the final corner a red squirrel darted from the path in front of us as we approached.

Walking around the tomb  before entering we took note of the grassy mound and the feminine opening of the chamber  before spending a good deal of time  looking at the  inside of the chamber and noting the offerings left by previous visitors.

Brian, the Moot Chief (he’ll hate the title as he’s a very humble man), had prepared an information pack on all of the monuments we would be seeing in the day. So, a few facts:

  • Known as the Mound in the Dark Grove
  • First explored in 1865 and then again in 1928
  • It was thought to have begun as a henge and was built in the later days of the Neolithic
  • It used to be surrounded by a bank, an inner ditch and a circle of upright stones
  •  Over time the henge gave way to the passage tomb similar to today’s structure
  • Unusually a small ox as found buried outside the outer ditch of the henge,  encased in a stone and wood frame.
  • The monument as seen today has been heavily excavated and reconstructed
  • Burned and unburned human bones were found in the chamber and curiously so was an ear bone, carefully placed in a  fire pit which was covered with a flat rock.
  • several stones in the tomb have been found with spiral patterns and other stone works.
  • the upright , assumed phallic, stone in the chamber is a replica, with the original on display in the Cardiff museum.

The Chamber itself is beautiful inside and the mound on the top is less than half the size it would originally have been as it would have stretched right up to the ditch still in place now and been lined with huge kerb stones. Historically, it seems to have been used for a period of roughly 500 years before being the entrance was blocked up for a long time.

The mound itself is well supported by concrete additions and is a great place to meditate, but take care not to tread away any grass or soil. There’s a warming energy that still rises through the mound itself.

Sadly my photographs of the inside of the tomb are a bit out of focus… so you’ll have to visit the site to get a good idea of it’s insides.

 

Castell Bryn Gwyn

53°10’43.57″N  004°17’59.40″W

Our second stop was an impressively sized circular bank of soil. This is another site with a long history of usage, though i have to admit that I got very little from it in terms of any impressions of use.

An excavation begun in 1959 found evidence that the site had been used as an henge, settlement between the late Neolithic/ early Bronze age and the Roman period.

Post holes that would have supported structures, pottery and flint were found in the inner ring as well as an obvious, but narrow track way through the bank.

Sadly the site has been partially destroyed by farm buildings and the like over the years. and can no longer be sen as a full circle as it once was.

 

Bodowyr Burial Chamber

53°11’22.16″N  004°18’12.24″W

We meandered further in to the Anglesey countryside and found our selves wandering through a field be-speckled with sheep dung and recently mown grass.

In the centre of the field is a small polygonal chamber tomb ensconced within a whit painted metal pen. This site has never been excavated, but it is thought to be a neolithic chamber tomb and it’s speculated that it would have been covered by a mound of soil as many others of the time were.

The energy of this site seemed to be such as to lull everyone in to a state of relaxation. As a group a good amount of time was devoted to just looking at the site.
Needless to say all that relaxation took place after most member of the party had scrambled over the metal fence…. it is after all only designed to keep the sheep out, surely.

In fact the fence hadn’t kept out the sheep as a dip beneath one of the bars and some sheep poop inside the fenced area would testify to.

I took advantage of the cut grass at this site to make a couple of things to leave as an offering.

After lining the grass trimmings up a little, i rolled them in to a cord, and twisted them in to  a loose rope. From this a small ‘corn doll’ was fashioned and placed in the centre of the monument. The second piece of grass rope was to be tied on the metal fencing as a sort of clootie ribbon.

 

Din Dryfol Burial Chamber

53°13’30.82″N  004°24’20.52″W

From a small yet obvious chamber tomb to a larger and well hidden gem!
It took a little bit of jungle prowess and even a blood offering to find this charming burial chamber.

As we drove from Bodowyr to this one there was an air of mystery as to how to reach the site. Our instructions suggested that we would find ourselves in a farm yard called Fferam Rhosydd …  yet the point on the map suggested it was elsewhere.
Having unknowingly passed the farm entranced as we drove through a part of the island displaying beautiful rocky outcrops and ridges, we paused to take stock.
Pulling up against a seemingly abandoned farm building  the minibus was approached by a large fat cat. Staring up at the window he Mewled; demanding to know our business.

After being asked the for directions the cat simply looked back the way we’d come for a long moment before going to sit by his equally intimidating looking brother cat who had appeared from nowhere. They almost gave off the sense that they were mini cat mafiosos who would now gather in force to make sure we weren’t stealing any of their patch.

Heeding the cat’s advice we turned around and headed back, soon seeing a sign embedded in a hedge that pointed us where we needed to go.

Once parked up, we disinterred from the vehicle and followed the signs as best we could. The monument is not obvious from the parking space and so I scuttled up a small  hillocky rock ridge to get a better view of the area. Following the sheep path through the gorse I realised two things. Firstly that it was a one way path with a sheer  slope denying further progression and secondly that everyone else was following me up the mound. Seemingly everyone thought I’d spotted the monument and was leading the way.

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With us all crowded on the top of the rocky mound we looked around, seeing a bit of rock sticking out of the bracken on a hillside some 500 yards away, we ascertained that it was the most likely site.

Turning around to dismount the hillock Pamela managed to slip on a hidden rock. Fortunately she caught herself… unfortunately it was on a dense sprig of gorse. As she pulled the spiny leaves from her hand and blood bloomed on the surface we noted the first offering of blood made to the pace that day.

Once down the hill there were two options to take. One was easy and merely involved negotiating grass well nibbled by cows and walking through a gate. Due to the brow of the hill though, this path was not known about in advance.

And so, with a few waiting behind, Brian, Nick and myself set off, cutting a barely visible path between two hedgerows containing boggy ground and then up and through the  chest height bracken and gorse.
After a meandering path had been taken we arrived at the stones, saying a brief farewell and asking forgiveness for shattering the peace of the place before we shouted to our companions to walk across the field as the gate they had spotted from their vantage point after entering a field did indeed connect to the site.

It proved tricky to get a full picture of the site due to the tall plant growth surrounding it, but this is a very worthwhile site to visit. We were even treated to the sight of ants ferrying their grubs up and down the tallest monolith to catch a little sun.

 

 

Overall the site consists of four chambers that were thought to be incorporated in to one long cairn, though  the soil is no missing and the stones had been reported as being slipped back in the early 1800’s.

There’s a definite echo here of residual power though and a future camp out on the sight would, I’m sure,  yield some great journeys.

 

Barclodiad y Gawres Burial Chamber

53°12’28.42″N  004°30’18.25″W

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Having spent our time basking in the sunshine at the previous location we then piled once again in to the minibus. The day was hot and the short walk from the sandy car park to the not too distant grass covered mound was made all the more pleasant due to the gentle sea breeze that caressed our forms.

Sadly the mound had been locked up for the day before we’d arrived and we’d been having so much fun elsewhere that we were too late to collect a key. But it was nice to peer in and imagine things as they perhaps once had been.

The tomb is similar in profile to chamber tombs found over the water in Ireland. It’s name meaning Giantess’s apron full – with local legend suggesting that an apron load of earth was dropped here by a she giant.

Inside, lies a cruciform, four chambered tomb where the cremated remains of at least two men have been found. The central area, it is said, was used to host a fire pit. The archaeological evidence suggests that the fire was put out or the last time by a ‘stew’ being poured on it.  The stew had a range of tasty critters in it if the bones are to be believed.  Remains of mice, frogs, toads, snakes, hares,eels and some fish were found among the embers. After which the whole pit was capped with limpet shells and pebbles.

Again, like the tombs in the Boyne Valley, Ireland, this chamber features decorated stones, bearing patterns very similar to the Irish tombs as well.

 

 

 

An impromptu ritual…

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After finding that we couldn’t enter the tomb, e seemed to collectively decide to have a bit of a chill out. Gary, headed to the cliff tops to navel gaze, Sarah and Pamela loitered at the top of the mound.
Nick and myself went for a wander (and  everyone else had a sit down).

A mere stone’s throw away from the tomb is a nice little cove… it’s littered with rocks (and sadly with litter) and the large stones act as a channel  for the water to navigate before the tide can come fully in.

Here the majority of us gathered and in a ceremony with very few words we called to Land, Sea and Sky and offered our skill as stone stackers to the Goddess Mon as a thank you for the hospitality of Angelsey.

These stacks would fall with the tide’s touch, but we gave a glimpse of ephemeral beauty to the place and our energy (and patience) in the making of such things as a thank you.

We were rewarded with a sun bleached rabbit skull for Nick’s collection as we waked back to the car. It was out of sight amidst the heather, but it called out and so was retrieved.

 

 

 

Ty Newydd Burial Chamber

53°14’07.22″N  004°28’57.70W

 

The time was now around 5pm (or later, I can’t recall) and yet there were still more sites to visit on our List. Brian had done an excellent job of putting the list together – but he’s also a stickler for value for money!  I can’t fault him on that, and I don’t think any others who attended would either.

Winding our way loosely back to the roads that lead to England we passed a sign for another burial chamber and so stopped – it was on our list after all.

This tomb was excavated in 1936 but yielded few finds. Although it was built in the Neolithic period the finds are of a flint arrow from the Bronze age and a shard of Beaker pottery.

As can be seen in the pictures, the cap stone of this monument has a large and obvious fault running through it. As such two hefty brick pillars have been introduced to keep the cap from falling apart. In the recent past it’s obviously become a custom to stick coins in to this gap as can be seen below – though none of us added any currency to the crack lest it act like a wedge and split the cap stone.

To do so would be irresponsible – after all, we weren’t wearing steel toe capped boots and no one wanted a broken toe.

Around the periphery of the structure is a circle of concrete bollards. These mark the area that is would have been covered with soil before the excavation.

This site is approached by climbing over a style and walking the edge of a field. A herd of sheep were grazing the remnants of a turnip crop in here and had uprooted a rather phallic turnip which not only found it’s way in to Sara’s bag, but also created much amusement on the minibus.
Another member of the party fulfilled the stereotypical role of the Liverpudlian, despite being a Southport resident, and… erm … shall we say ‘longterm borrowed’… an armful of golden stemmed grain from a neighbouring field edge to make in to corn dollies for the season.

With the hot, yet vegetative, property  we hightailed it back to the minibus and on to the next location.

 

Presaddfed Burial Chamber

53°17’53.86″N  004°28’54.64″W

 

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Here we would find the last site of the trip as well as a few other interesting things.

There are two burial chambers next to each other at this location, one of which is clearly  standing more proudly than the other.
Archaeologists believe that these would have likely been buried under soil  and that the lack of a stone passage between the two tombs might indicate that they were used at different times during the Neolithic period.

These tombs have a more modern history as well – apparently they provided shelter to  a family of squatters in the 1700’s.

Not only that but we found clear evidence of a night terror in the location. One with sharp talons and a cutting beak. One that flies on silent wings.

An owl!

An also another bird of prey, likely a buzzard, too.

 

Brian spotted a pellet on the top of the fallen capstone and upon investigation there were few bones but a lot of short fur. The owl had likely been eating voles or mice.
The second picture is the knee of a medium sized bird, possibly a pheasant. As can be seen, a sharp beak has snipped through the bones either side of the join.
The knee as found atop the intact tomb cap stone as well.

 

 

From here we headed back towards Liverpool and our respective dwellings. Ready to dream about another day trip out with the Circle of Pagans.

Nutty nut discovery


In my last In SpirallingLeaf’s Grove  podcast I covered the Plum, Gage, Damson and Bullace  and in doing so referenced  one of their close relative, the Almond. 

This passing comment reminded me of the absolute  wealth of lore and fascinating  facts that Almond hides in plain sight, just inside it’s  woody little shell.  

Yet despite this depth of  lore, I have to admit that I don’t  know  Prunis dulcis as a physical  entity  very well at all. You see, it’s  not a common tree in the UK,  let alone in the soggy lands of the Northwest of  England! 

It’s  a tree with roots in the middle east, both literally  and historically.  

It likes hot lands, sun drenched and dry aired; lands like California, with little frost. Those lands are hard to find in my neck of the woods!

So, I looked at my diary and knew I wouldn’t  be  able  to  get a lot of time researching  for a few weeks… as such, I promised myself, if I could find  an almond tree, then I’d  do the podcast about it for definite.

I’ve  spent two weeks sending emails to botanical gardens and estates near where I’ve  been working (most of Merseyside  and Lancashire)… but to no avail.

I’ve  asked in plant and Permaculture based groups on Facebook. I even bothered Mersey Bio bank via my work twitter account…. also to no avail. 

Well. … Mersey Bio bank  sent me some great information  about a tree recorded in 2007 in an area of waste land in St Helens! Result! Or so I thought. I knew the patch of  land it would be on if I could find it…. but it’s  either well hidden… or dead. Likely  the latter, I fear. 

As mentioned  above,  almonds aren’t  native and certainly  aren’t  as vigorous  as the plethora of climatically adapted trees that have put on a lot of growth over ten years on that patch. The area of land where it should have stood was the remnants  of an old glass factory. Presumably  the tree had either been planted as part  an old ornamental driveway to the office area, or had sprung forth from a nut discarded by a worker. Either way I couldn’t  find  it.


What I did find was a wealth of apples,  cherries, plums, viburnums, spindles and poplar among other trees. A few surprises turned up as well, like the happily naturalised sweet peas  and a mass of human detritus  with the metal stripped out of it by local reprobates.

As should be  expected, the location of each fruit tree is now in my memory  for later use. Yet ,  without  the  Almond  of my desire I headed back to the car and homeward.

Oddly,  I took a wrong turn at a junction  I know well. Shucks! Yet, no bother as I knew I could turn left and cut through  the  top of Ashton  to rejoin through main road towards home.

Onwards I trundled, when suddenly  I spotted a tree…. and then another…. little, scabby trees next to larger cherry  blossom trees planted on roadside verges. Trees that screamed ALMOND! to my subconscious  mind.

The car almost parked itself as I flew out to double check. Low and behold, I had found almond trees on grass verges, planted by the council, less than three miles from home, on a road I had traveled many times to bypass traffic in the past.

I’ll  visit these trees a few more times over the coming weeks. Hopefully  I’ll  get  to know them in the process,  as well as likely worrying  the locals with my presence.

Propagating currants: a quick walk through.

Look at the picture  above  and behold my white currant bush!

Well, it’s  one of about half a dozen that line one side of the allotment. 

Some 14 years ago, in the first few months of having the allotment,  I took  lengths of prunings from the currant  plants in the family garden. These prunings were around 12 inches long. 

There were three currants there; red, white and black, and I took a dozen cuttings or more from each.

It was winter… and at sixteen I was less adept at telling the currants apart by bark and smell alone. Being a self sure teenager I was also a little  careless and clumsy. 

Somewhere and somehow , on the journey between home and the allotment, they got muddled up. So I have an allotment  hedge of mixed currants – which made mass pruning  interesting – as the different currant  species like to be pruned differently  for best results – at least until  I sussed out their differences  in scent and bark and leaf colour.

Anyway. .. these currant cuttings were stuck in spade made slits in the soil. Firmed in with the heel of my boot and watered. Well  over 90% are growing and cropping  happily to date.

So it’s  very easy to propagate currants and the rest of the Ribes  genus from these firm, hardwood  cuttings.

Yet today I’m  going  to  quickly detail how to take cuttings  from  a plant in active growth. These woody but flexible cuttings, sometimes  with some green stem tips are known as semi ripe and are taken between  midsummer and the autumn equinox, give or take a couple  of  weeks.

Pencil thick stems are better for this as the younger wood roots faster…. but it’ll  work  pretty  well  with slightly thicker stems as in the pictures. 

I’m  saving the pencil  thick stuff for The Permaculture  Convergence  in Ilkley, Yorkshire, at the start of  September. I’m  happy  to  say that I’very been provisionally  confirmed  as leading  a workshop on propagation  there! (Check out the event and Permaculture  association  here). Which is in part my reason for propagating  the currants  now – so I have some with roots on to show off at the session.

1) Choose  a healthy looking bush.This one cropped extra heavily this year.

2) Select some straight, fruit/flower free stems. Aim for this or last year’s growth  that’s  firm and not very sappy  growth. Sappy, fresh growth will sometimes  wilt before  the cutting  roots in a warm summer. Which is a waste of time and plant. 

3) Aim for cuttings between  six and eight inches in length  (15 – 18cm).  Cut what is to be the bottom of the cutting just below a leaf bud/scar. These have a lot of hormones  and totipotent cells in them, which will trigger the production  of and  become the root buds respectively.  

Having one of these leaf nodes near the bottom of the cutting will speed up  root production and reduce the amount  of  wood that is prone to dieback and ergo infection.

You can’t  really see it in the picture, but the blade is positioned  to cut just below a bud, which is coming out of the other side of the stem, away from the camera.

4) Remove all the leaves and active shoots from the lower 2/3 or 3/4 of the stem. Leave a couple of mature leaves and maybe a few smaller ones at the top.

It’s  important  to  strike  a balance here. Too many  leaves left on and the cutting loses too much  water and so stresses through dehydration. This makes it harder for it to survive  long enough  to  root. Too few and it can’t  photosynthesise at all; leaving little energy for the roots to grow.

Remember, it no longer has any roots to absorb  moisture  from the soil. All of  the water it needs has  to  come through the cut end of  the stem until it can grow more roots.

5) Fill a pot with free draining peat free compost. 9cm  square pots are used here but any will do. Gently firm the compost to get rid of large air gaps, but don’t  compact it too hard.

Gently slide your cuttings in to the pots. Placing the around  the edge of the pot makes the most of the fact that water will condense on the inside of the plastic and the little droplets will entice new roots towards them.

We are using woody growth. If you have to make a hole with something  else in order to insert your cutting  then your compost has been compacted too much and should be tipped out, loosened up and then gently firmed in to the pot. New roots don’t  grow too well in compacted soil.

Give each cutting a couple of inches of room to grow and don’t  overfill  the pots with cuttings or they’ll  compete for light and water.

6) Water them well. Place in a sheltered spot out of direct sunlight – too much of either will pull water from the leaves faster than it can be replaced by the cut stem. 
If kept moist but not wet they should start to produce roots after about a month. After six – ten weeks they should be ready to tip out of the pot, seperate and plant up  individually  in fresh pots.

I’ll  post up with the rooted cuttings I’m due time.

Trees from a bottle?

As  mentioned in a blog post last week, I’m  planning on giving up the allotment  I’ve  held from the past decade and a half as I simply don’t  give it the time it deserves due to work, hobbies and other factors. 
There are a good number of trees on the allotment  that were planted in my first few years there and I feel that  I owe them some loyalty for all the fruit and whittling wood they’ve  provided  over the years.

Although I plan to leave the allotment well mulched and relatively  weed free, so the next user can get a head start, the chances are that a few of these more established  trees will remain behind as I won’t be abe to rehome them all. Those that do will be heavily pruned before I leave them to their fate.

Yet, sadly the chances are also that the council will spray the plot with herbicides; potentially  killing anything of value left. This annoys me simply  because that patch of land has been cultivated  to organic standards all the time I’ve  tended to it (and hopefully  will be tended in that manner after I leave).

So, what to do? How do I repay those trees?

I was starting to plan a layering  system to root sections of the trees so I could replant elsewhere, safe in the knowledge  that the genetic traits of those trees would be continued in new plants elsewhere.

Layering consists of lightly damaging a branch which is then pinned to the soil so that, as it  heals, roots grow from the damaged part. This rooted branch can then be removed  and a new, genetically identical  plant is formed.

…But layering  can take a long time for some species (like most fruit trees).

Then, a few days ago, I stumbled on a Pintrest link that took me here 

This is a blog post about a way of propagating trees that I was unfamiliar  with. 

Having worked as a plantsman and Nurseryman  for a good few years (albeit around six years ago) propagation  is a one of my addictions. An addiction  which rarely  needs justification  apart from when too much space starts to be taken up by all the extra plants! 

As such I’m  feeding my addiction!

The linked post is a simple version and with a little  horticultural  knowledge  I think it can be improved to make better use of the hormones  present in dormant  buds. 

With two water bottles that I knew could be used immediately I started  to  get  a  little excited. 

 Their labels were removed and enough water was poured in to fill the bottom  two inches of the bottles.

Having had a great plum harvest this year I decided to honour the tree by trying this ‘super giant plum’ (or similar  name when bought) and I took a thin branch from a purple leaved (young foliage),  tiny berried, ornamental  apple which bears beautiful dark pink/purple  flowers  in spring. 

As the original  article  suggested o cut off all buds and leaves and discarded them (compost heap).

The branches are between 5mm and 15mm in diameter and we’re cut in to five inch lengths (approx 13cm). The original  article  suggests eight inch, but my bottles are smaller so I had to adapt.

I cut just above a bud for the top most part of the branch section and just below a bud for the bottom end. Trimming like this reduces the amount of wood that could die back and encourages the buds to produce  roots quicker as they end up with more of a hormone  concentration where the totipotent cells are in high density. 

Each bud, or leaf scar,  contains an axillary  bud which is usually  dormant  or suppressed  by more dominat shoots. It’s  from these that new roots and shoots should come.

These snipped branches were placed in the bottles and the lids screwed on, ensuring  100% humidity. Just like a mist propagator really.

Apparently  they should show signs of root growth, in the form of white root nubs, in around  two  weeks. I’ll  keep  you informed  for good or ill. Once the roots start to form they should be potted up and  grown on as normal.

Most fruit trees are grafted on to dwarfing rootstock  to keep them small and manageable. If this works, fingers crossed,  the chances are that the resultant  trees will be more vigorous  than  their parents  and  much taller. 

RESULTS: Sadly this process  doesn’t  work too easily…. the stems in water tend to ferment rather than root. .. which is a pity as I had high hopes.

Pentre Ifan and a modern cowshed

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I’ve a confession to make – I’ve been a lax blogger. Looking back through my photographs I realise that I haven’t told you about so many thing and places.

I’m going to remedy that – for the next while expect a daily(ish) blog post as I unload memories and thoughts on to the digital platform in front of you.

We’ll start with a wonderful place Ffynnon Fair ( https://m.facebook.com/FfynnonFair/). This is a delightful reconstructed and converted Cow shed in the small village of Eglwyswrw, near Ceredigion in the South West of Wales. Owned and run as a holiday space by Wendy and John this is a luxury modern  building on the inside and full of rustic charm on the out. Ideal for a couple’s getaway in Pembrokeshire.

As awesome as the building is, it’s the Welsh cake (Bara Brith), the warmth of Wendy and John’s personalities and the waggly tail of Molly, the softest dog ever, that make the place so special… that and it’s set in a gorgeous valley garden with a stream running through the bottom. Privacy or friendship, a hard choice to make sometimes, but for all the right reasons.

Right that’s my recommendation done. Having arrived there in November 2015 (we’ve been back since) I was amazed at the prevalence of ancient sites and old culture . With Wendy as our guide we took in the sights, making the most of her deep knowledge of the area. Some of which I’ll cover over the next few days, much of which you’ll have to go there yourself to get the real experience!

Today though is about paying a little homage to the area around the village. Future posts will see us taking a look at Castell Heneleys, a neolithic centre full of interesting delights; the source of the Bluestones for Stonehenge and more.

Today though I wanted to talk about Pentre Ifan.

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This is a gorgeous tomb with ample height to stand in (and I’m pretty tall); the huge cap stone full of texture and touchable from underneath. Heavy stones reaching to the sky around it only start to pull in the presence of the place.

To find the monument you must journey through narrow roads with high green banks raised either side of the track way and corners that could hide many cars. Miraculously though, they rarely do… the roads are quiet and  although you’ve been following the small and insistent signs, you start to feel as though you are about to slip in to the Otherworld… that you are being misled by wicked Welsh faeries….  those signs seem to be a bit to far apart… and then you see another one! Phew!

You find yourself taking a few more corners before pulling up alongside a a tall hedge and heading through the gate to the baleful sounds of disturbed sheep… who seem to be the guardians of pretty much all  antiquity these days. As you walk along the track, feeling their eyes on you, your eyes alight on the first of the stones. Walking in there are a few large boulders, that must have stood upright, or on egde at one point, laying recumbent and half buried. And then you seen the rest of the structure.
In times gone past it was likely  covered in soil, at least part way and the space between the three uprights which hold the cap would have been a tighter squeeze as some of the now sleeping stones would have been placed so as to seal off the space. In here, the dead would have stayed until their flesh went away in to the bellies of Earthly denizens. The bones likely gathered for use in Ancestral work after a time.

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Don’t worry, nothing that wouldn’t biodegrade was left after this little rite, and certainly wasn’t left among the stones.

Pentre Ifan has a peaceful energy about it, far from the macabre atmosphere that might be expected. When you sit and tune in a little, there’s a deep strength there and a sensation that the standing stones reach down right to the Earth’s core, and can pull potency up from there still. A place that can invigorate the living today and still the mind at the same time.

A place bedded in a magical landscape, with beautiful sun rises in the area and the bluestone outcrops of the Preselli hills, surrounded with wild horses in the near distance, not to mention Tycanol woods as an ever present leafy entity a stone’s  throw away.

 

 

What’s more, if visited at dawn or dusk, the place tingles with yet more energy, and it’s not from the sheep. One frozen winter visit, as night drew in, I decided to head back to the car, taking a few more photographs on the way. The Cap stone seems to be almost lifting off, ready to float in this one, and with the magic of the place I could believe that it does whenever it’s not observed!

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