Overkill Hill…

*

Never look back!

It is good advice, unfortunately, in story-telling this advice,

when given, is never adhered to.

Orpheus… Lot… Dr Faustus…

They are all concerned with Soul.

The Soul that turns to look back is caught in time.

It may be an ‘intention thing’, like trying to serve two masters, do not walk one way and look the other.

There are any number of mythological monsters depicted in this way to prove it.

Tiamet… Nergal… The Dread Beast of Mercia.

The hero ‘slays’ them all, by moving forward.

*

*

But going back to take another look, that is different.

That is part of going forward.

And it is also inevitable.

This time we inadvertently found ourselves following our own advice from one of our books.

*

*

We started at Hordron’s, that hoary old receptacle of time, went on to Strines, the ‘Peacock Pub’, and finished up at the Old Horns Inn.

And this time when we got to Bradfield, ‘Castle Hill’ was illuminated.

*

*

No need to wonder where we will be heading next then.

*

*

But first, we had another encounter with one of our mounds to experience.

We needed more photographs.

*

*

And photographs…

Were duly forthcoming.

*

*

Once we had braved the curiously over-friendly sheep…

Traced by Angels…

*

‘Of wheel-tracks there were none just strange,

narrow paths across the moorland.’

*

*

With the dust well settled over the Living Land Workshop, and already two days into our vacation, we found ourselves in search of a map.

A big map.

One which showed in greater detail the ways and by-ways of Old Cornwall.

*

*

We had done well that first day, discovering a goodly number of the most obvious and easily accessible sites…

But this was going to need precision.

*

*

We had a name.

We had a description.

We even had a picture, and now, we had a good map.

We could not fail, could we?

*

*

 

Sentinels…

*

In this part of the world

‘erratics’, that is, ‘river-worn’ rocks

are considered High Art…

Their untramelled forms

adorn every gate-post.

*

 

Stoneland…

*

… “What, not even Stoneland?”

*

*

“Not even Stoneland,” smiles Wen.

*

*

“Pity, they will never know what they are missing.”

*

 

 

Still Stone-Less At-Chat…

*

“No one in their right mind believes that stones can walk.”

“Despite the fact that the Folk-Record is unequivocable on this point.”

“It is also unequivocable about stones dancing, and drinking from streams.”

“I may be able to clarify the streams. They may be underground.”

“They may even be telluric currents, but you promised.”

“That, unfortunately, is deductive reasoning for you. It was the only bit of wall we had not checked.”

“We had so checked it… last time.”

“Only from a distance and that does not count.”

*

*

As it turned out there proved to be another bit of wall we had not checked.

Also distant and too far away to consider once the snow started.

I mean, really started.

There were compensations though, like the trees and the wildlife.

*

*

“Are you sure it isn’t the Throne-Stone?”

“Not near enough to the wall and the gate.”

“But the wall is a mnenomic. Your mind could easily have contracted the distance.”

“Not the right size, or colour.”

“Like that’s not easily accounted for.”

“Maybe you’re right and I’ve discovered a new species of stone, which can walk!”

“But that would be a New-Old species of stone.”

“So perhaps it just went for a stroll, again.”

“What, in the snow?”

“…We did.”

*

Far-Shore…

*

The tide’s

a-comin’ in…

*

Don’t get stuck

on the sand bank unless

you can swim…

*

The tide’s

a-comin’ in…

*

Carry our

daughter’s body

back from the drink.

*

Five-Grey-Mares…

*

Five grey mares…

*

*

On a green hill…

*

*

First, they stamp…

*

*

Then, they champ…

*

*

And then they stand still.

*

*

 

Dear Deer…

*

A silent given grace you seek to find

Within the moonlit forests of the mind

Where mossy doubt obscures the silver stream

And clarity comes only in a dream

Where thou and I and we are of one mind

Blessed by the lucent magic of the Hind.

– The-Foliate-Man

*

“Asmodeus…

*

…Bearer of Time

Gnomon of Eternity

You must have seen a thing or two

During your torturous sojourn…

How best can we understand our predicament?”

*

“As Death is the Lord of life…

Life must be the Lord of death.”

*

‘A very special place’…

*

The Eskimo has over fifty words for snow…

*

Carn les Boel, is marked on the map as a hill-fort but it is very different from the two ‘hill-forts’ we had just encountered on our Workshop…

It is difficult to imagine anyone living here, although, doubtless a presence would, in former times have been maintained.

*

*

The stones, predominantly erratic, have been judiciously supplemented, and in case we had arrrived with eyes wide shut the avian populations seemed keen to call our attention to the ‘salient points’…

*

*

These days we do not have to be told twice…

*

*

Although, ‘The Dragon’s Breath’ was proving restrictive…

*

*

Our request for clarity was graciously accepted…

*

*

Albeit briefly…

*

*

And why is Carn les Boel so special?

*

*

It is a place where Dragon Energies meet the sea…