May at last

In dry weather (yes we have had some) the lark rises from the dandelion covered field next to us and belts it out up in the clouds. We rarely see her, but true to form we can hear her lovely song, which is presumably pulling our ears away from her nest somewhere in the grass. I hope it's safe! We have our own nest of field voles who live between the hedge and the veg plots. They've created deep runnells in the grass into holes you could just push a thumb down - if you were a mean 10yr old boy. They were safe until we tried to use the wheelbarrow they had hid under and so exposed them to light...and kites. Jim and I lay down in the grass and watched their lives for a bit. The babies are smooth haired and cinnamon coloured and have little ears and very short tails. We've covered them up from the kites again now in the hope they may continue to raise their brood happily.I don't know if they're the ones that ate our polytunnel tulips in the winter, but even if they are, we now know them personally, and feel no aminosity.

Sunset over Rhos Hill

It's like the moles. As we're not houseproud about our field grass, we're happy to let them hill up anywhere. When I was studying shamanism, the mole became my first 'power animal' and I would never think of harming one. We feel the same as Monty Don on this issue - he says in The Complete Gardiner...Moles cause a huge amount of damage...but I like moles. I think that they are beautiful. I always hate it when the cats catch them...because they seem such harmless, special animals - in the same catagory as otters, badgers or field mice.  Monty says the molehills make good potting compost - we've already discovered that trick -  and that although the desecration might feel vast it is usually only one mole in spring at mating time as they are otherwise solitary animals...I refuse to trap them...I think the only solution is to live and let tunnel...and we agree with him. The only animal we wouldn't not welcome onto our land would be the common rat, for obvious reasons...and soon...the fox...I'm happy for him to feed his family, but he ain't gettin' my chickens!

Over the week we've completed the chicken house and run. We chose a cute looking thing with a little ladder to an upstairs bedroom - foxproof we were hoping - but the construction isn't as good as we thought. It's a little bit flimsy and will need shoring up, probably. Anyway, there is time, we're not getting hens until the beginning of June.

On Saturday we went over to Jackie and John's in LLandybydder to help them build a stone circle. After all we're total masters of that art having one ourselves...ahem. John had found eight really good sized stones in his garden (in fact they were not the largest, just the largest he could move). We created the circle in the same style as the one at Rhos Hill - a stone in each quarter and a stone between - 8 stones in all - one for each point of the ritual year. Jackie also wanted an alter and had found a flat stone for that purpose, which we balanced on 3 white quartz stones. This process took us through lunch and afternoon tea, at which point the men lit a fire and Jackie began her ritual to bless her circle, her land and to welcome in the time of May. J&J's land is quite high and the view is incredible from every aspect; a 360degree panorama of hill, forest and field. It is a stunning location for a personal ritual circle, something I feel is important in my own life. I prefer to go out to my little circle and find more solace and power in it than even I do at stonehenge or Avebury. The ancient sacred sites are wonderful, full of mystery and awe inspiring, but I don't feel as if they belong to me, which indeed they don't. We will continue to discover ancient sites in our neck of Wales, just as we did moving round Britain, making pilgramages to all the famous ones, from Skara Brae to  the Merry Maidens, but guess it must feel a little like visiting great cathedrals do to Christian pilgrims; a transformational experience, but not quite as comfortable as the little church in one's home town.

After the ritual at J&J's, we where physically and metally and spritually whacked, but John, bless him, still rustled up a chilli with jacket spuds, which was wonderful fodder for tired ritualist builders. We watched a film and sank into bliss until we finally dragged ourselves home. Thank you Jackie, John and Rowan of course, for an amazing day.