Tag Archives: magic

The Ticket Inspector…

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I am late.

I am expected in Leicester and now my only option is to catch the last train.

The last train to Leicester is a slow train and also appears to be experiencing difficulties.

Stopping where there are no stations.

That sort of thing.

It becomes clear that many of my fellow passengers are not going to get to their destinations and as the ticket inspector makes his round they discuss alternatives together.

As this is an unfamiliar route I assume that Leicester too is now out of the question.

A strange thing about the ticket inspector, although this is a new route and I have never met him before, he knows my name…

“Yes, Stu…”

…and uses its familiar form.

“You’ll be in Leicester in twenty minutes time.”

Not only does the ticket inspector know my name and use its familiar form, he is also incredibly accurate.

My alarm clock is due to go off in precisely twenty minutes time.

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‘A very special place’…

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The Eskimo has over fifty words for snow…

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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.

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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’…

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These days we do not have to be told twice…

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

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Our request for clarity was graciously accepted…

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Albeit briefly…

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And why is Carn les Boel so special?

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It is a place where Dragon Energies meet the sea…

 

 

 

Fairy Thorn…

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… Just then there is a flurry of wings, and squawks and screeches overhead and we turn our attention skyward in time to see an enormous buzzard chasing off two ravens from the precincts of Uffington Castle.

“Oh, Don look!”Cries Wen, “the hawk of the morning has chased the shadows of the night away.”

As if on cue a sky lark flies up from the ‘fairy thorn’ with as an incongruous a cacophony of song as you are ever likely to hear in such a setting…

As the ravens fly into black specks and disappear in the mist another buzzard glides into view and we watch the two mighty birds soar on the up-draught for awhile as if spiralling around some unseen cone of power.

It certainly feels like we have been accepted into something although I am not quite sure what.

I make a mental note to look up the origins of the phrase, ‘…the Heart of Albion’…

*

The acrid smoke hung heavy in the night air.

They would feast tonight.

But for now she plaited the strands of horsehair from the white mane.

A gift from the gods she would treasure…

A blessing as she shared the meat roasting in the pit on the plateau.

The flames cast a dull glow across the faces of the clans.

They were expectant, eager yet solemn.

They were waiting…

***

THE INITIATE

Book One of the Triad of Albion

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

The Initiate is the story of a journey beyond the realms of our accustomed normality.

It is a true story told in a fictional manner. In just such a way did the Bards of old hide in the legends and deeds of folk heroes, those deeper truths for those ‘with eyes to see and ears to hear’.

Don and Wen, two founding members of a new Esoteric School, meet to explore an ancient sacred site, as a prelude to the School’s opening event. The new School is to be based upon a nine-fold system and operate under the aegis of the Horus Hawk.

The trip does not unfold as planned.

Instead, Don and Wen, guided by the birds, find themselves embarking upon a journey that will lead them through a maze of spiritual symbolism, to magical mysteries and the shadowy figure of the Ninth Knight.

As the veils thin and waver, time shifts and the present is peopled with shadowy figures of the past, weaving their tales through a quest for understanding and opening wide the doors of perception…

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Weathering?…

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If Giants…

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Could construct…

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Balance-Stones…

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They would look a little like this…

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And for those still in need of perspective…

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‘TAKE A LOOK AT THESE HANDS’…

If these stone structures are produced by ‘nature’s hand’,

it may be salutory to consider ‘modern man’s hand’ in contrast,

which has, by quarrying, made a ‘bit of a mess’ of what was once

a ‘hill-fort’ possessing as much beauty as that of Carn les Boel or Carl Wark.

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Callings…

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It is entirely possible that this ‘fella’ once stood in a ‘circle’.

He now guards a lay-by in an unassuming stretch of Dartmoor,

if such a thing can be said to exist.

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Nearby, stands a ‘wayside cross’ which may not be a cross at all.

It may be a ‘hammer’ or a ‘thunder-bolt’.

It may even be a sign post…

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We posit such querulous notions

only because the landscape

again appeared to be offering us ‘clues’.

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And shortly after this impromptu stop,

the Dragon’s Breath completely whited us out…

We may have to go back again.

The Lost Stone of Chat…

Foxave.jpg428

“There is a stone which would be worth visiting. It is in Baslow which is on our way to the Symposium so we could stop off there, grab some lunch, check out the stone and then head off to our meeting.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“If I can remember where it is.”

“I thought you knew where it was; why else tell me about it otherwise.”

“I do, sort of, only we will be coming at it the other way, the last time I visited I came down off the moor but we won’t have time to do it that way.”

“How long ago was this?” says Wen becoming somewhat suspicious.

“About ten years. It’s a huge stone. You can’t miss it and I know the general direction of its whereabouts.”

“How big is the stone?”

“It’s massive. It’s the largest free-standing monolith I’ve ever come across and we found it quite by accident.”

“Bigger than the stones at Avebury?”

“Not bigger, but taller than the stones at Avebury.”

“By accident you say?”

“Look, there’s nothing mysterious about it, I’d taken Al and Sal to see the Park-Gate stone circle and then we walked back over the moor, which is another necropolis by the way, to Baslow and lunch. There was some sort of monument giving a rather splendid view of the area and just after that we came down off the moor and found the stone.”

“A necropolis you say? It is not marked on the map,” says Wen with some conviction.

“Well, not all of them are.”

“The big ones though, they usually are, surely?”

“I didn’t imagine it. We even took a photograph. Al and I were laughing because of the, shall we say, somewhat rude reputation of such stones, so we got Sal to stand next to it and Al took a photograph on his phone.”

“Okay, if it’s as big as you say we should be able to find it again quite easily.”…

The Aetheling Thing

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DD front coverDoomsday:

The Ætheling Thing

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

“Who was this Arviragus bloke anyway?”

Don studies the light as it plays through his beer, casting prisms on the table. How is it possible to hide such a story… the hidden history of Christianity in Britain? Oh, there are legends of course… old tales… Yet what if there was truth in them? What was it that gave these blessed isles such a special place in the minds of our forefathers? There are some things you are not taught in Sunday School. From the stone circles of the north to the Isle of Avalon, Don and Wen follow the breadcrumbs of history and forgotten lore to uncover a secret veiled in plain sight.

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Wen is checking something in the Dictionary, “Get this… ‘ætheling from O.E. .Æpling, ‘son of a king, man of royal blood, nobleman, chief, prince, king, Christ, God-Man, Hero, Saint…’
“Wait a minute… wait a minute… give me that last bit again.”
“…Christ, God-Man, Hero, Saint…”
“Didn’t we call our Arthur, Aeth in, ‘The Heart of Albion’?”
“We did.”
“And didn’t we set his story in Mercia?”
“We did.”
“And didn’t Mercia grow to become the largest and most powerful Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Albion at one point in its history?”
“It did indeed.”
“Well that’s it then…The Anglo Saxon kings were claiming divine descent.”
“…Along with most other European kings at that time no doubt.”
“That’s true, but the Anglo-Saxon kings’ descent wasn’t from God it was from Christ.”
“And how did they get there?”
“They got there from their very own High One who also hung from a tree with a spear in his side… screaming.”
“Odin!”
“They evidently regarded Christ as an avatar of Odin.”
“Blimey, you’ll not read that in any history book!”
“Just as well we’re not writing a history then isn’t it?”

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Something fishy in Preseli…

‘Pentre-Ifan’

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‘I know we’re not in England but it doesn’t even feel like we’re in Britain!”

We were in Nevern churchyard in Pembrokeshire, Wales, on one of the Silent Eye’s Workshops…

And a familiar feeling was creeping over us…

The church and the ‘Stone Cross’ too seemed vaguely reminiscent of ‘something’ and we began to entertain the notion that we might have inadvertantly stumbled upon one of the treasures we had recently come across in our reading.

We were not destined to get to the mound at the back of the church, unfortunately, but we were near enough.

The garden walls of the houses which huddled around the local church were packed with quartz crystal, huge chunks of the stuff in some cases…

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‘I made a mental note to look at the relationship between Pentre Ifan, Nevern church and Carningli Peak… The three locations appeared to form an equilateral triangle. .. I revisited each site and retook their co-ordinates. The triangle is astonishingly accurate and places the three sites in a geometrical relationship that cannot be accidental. Students of the Traditional Arts will know that the equilateral triangle is the basis for a vesica pisces. Within the intersecting circles of the vesica are two equilateral triangles arranged back to back in a diamond shape… Is there a second triangle south of the ‘Nevern Triangle’? It did not take long to confirm that there is a standing stone that completes the second equilateral triangle. Waun Mawn is a six feet high single stone… whose location matches perfectly the requirements for the apex of a second triangle. These two triangles, together, form the basis of a vesica pisces.’

Robin Heath – Bluestone Magic