Bluestone Mysteries: How the Ancestors Honoured these Stones

 

https://www.wessexarch.co.uk/
our-work/amesbury-arch

Opening a prehistoric grave, finding the skeleton of an ancient person, and sifting through  grave goods, placed with love, at the time of the burial, must be fantastically exciting. Full marks to the way archeologists go about their work nowadays, showing a wide understanding along with a growing respect for the people of the past.

 

When the Amesbury Archer was uncovered, in 2002, it was described as one of the richest finds in decades. The young man, who died around 2,300BC, was buried three miles from Stonehenge, and a companion (likely a relation), was buried very close. DNA has shown that he'd come from somewhere in what is now Switzerland, and that when he died he might have been in terrible pain for years, from a shattered kneecap and an abscess in his jaw. The idea was posed that such people might have come many miles to Stonehenge, because this was a centre of healing. And this has been reinforced by tiny fragments of stone found among the grave goods, that turn out to be chips of bluestone, possibly left in-situ in pockets or drawstring bags kept near their skin, something that reminds me of the way we love to wear or carry powerfully healing crystals nowadays.

Whatever made these tiny stones so precious and powerful? Maybe the answer is in the story of why bluestones were erected so far away from their origins. 

Carn Meini, the Dragon's Back

For over 1,500 years, sacred (and heavy!) work took place on Salisbury Plain in five constructional stages. That's the equivalent of working on a temple from the time of King Arthur to the present day.

The  bluestones were the third phase of this construction (after building the woodhenge and the earthworks). 

They were sourced from the Preseli Hills (Mynydd Preseli) in west Wales, only half an hour's drive from where I live, but more than 140 miles (225km) away from their resting place. This makes Stonehenge very unusual -– almost all the other stone circles are quarried from fairly local stone. 

There are two of the types of Bluestone present at Stonehenge; dolerite and rhyolite which can be found in three very specific outcrops in the Preseli Hil – Carn Goedog Carn Meini and Craig Rhos-y-felin. I am lucky enough to have been to two of these ancient quarries.

https://blog.stonehenge-stone-circle.co.uk/tag/craig-rhos-y-felin/

Carn Meini is an outcrop of spotted dolerite bluestone rock eroded into jagged shapes, locally called The Dragon’s Back. I've been past these wonderful stones many times, when walking the Golden Road, and when holding rituals at the Gors Fawr stone circle  which stands directly below the outcrop.

Carn Meini has a very strong radiant quality. It’s not surprising the bluestone found there was used and loved so much in the Neolithic. Even so, it is amazing that bluestones found their way from a very powerful and ancient site in Pembrokeshire to another very ancient and powerful site over two hundred miles away, but the truth is stranger even than any fiction by Bernard Cornwell.

Perhaps even more spiritually  energetic and atmospheric is Craig Rhos-y-felin, less than a mile north of Care Meini. The photo shows the excavations that took place a few years ago, by the National Museum Wales. What they found there excited them. Because bluestone outcrops are formed in huge, natural, vertical pillars, they think it would have been possible to break off ‘monolith-sized’ slabs by hammering wooden wedges into cracks and wetting them thoroughly. As the wood swelled, the slab would simply split, ready to be carted away. This would have been equally possible at Carnivore's Meini, but at Rhos-y-felin, these slabs are long and strong, and would make marvellous standing stones for a ritual circle.  

The last time I was there, it was August, and the sun was burning down on us. The sensations that came from the place were sacred and full of old god energy. The fallen stones were as hot to the touch as an iron.The little stream running to the side was clear and cool, and all around it grew wild flowers.  Rare marsh fritillary butterflies were flitting around as if it was just an ordinary day to them, while we were in absolute paradise, gazing up at the outcrop as it loomed out of the flat ground like a cathedral. 

I'm pretty sure that this had to be the first sacred place of these early people – think of Ayers Rock in Australia. So, why not take a bit of the sacred away and create a second sacred place? I lay flat on one of the fallen slabs and closed my eyes, sensing the still, silent power of this place. It was a profound experience to journey here, in what felt like a holy sanctuary.

I couldn't help tapping the slabs of rock with smaller pieces of bluestone. Scientists discovered that they give off metallic sounds when tapped. And they are also two to three times more magnetic than most stone. Did early man encounter the dragon of Carn Meini and the towering temple of Rhos-y-felin and discover these magical propensities?

The National Museum of Wales took much evidence away from their dig at this wonderful rock face, including quarrying tools (stone wedges and hammerstones), which confirmed that the site as a Stone Age quarry. Most importantly, hazelnut shells and charcoal from the quarry workers’ campfires have been radiocarbon-dated to reveal proof that people quarried at both sites from around 3400BC.

Professor Mike Parker Pearson (UCL Institute of Archaeology) was puzzled at these early dates “It could have taken those Neolithic stone-draggers nearly 500 years to get them to Stonehenge, but that’s pretty improbable in my view. It’s more likely that the stones were first used in a local monument, somewhere near the quarries, that was then dismantled and dragged off to Wiltshire.”

Parker Pearson looked at the work of Welsh geologist Herbert Thomas, who in 1923 worked out that Stonehenge’s bluestones had been moved to Salisbury Plain by people – not carried, as some had speculated, by Ice Age glaciers. Thomas concluded that the bluestones originally formed a “venerated stone circle” somewhere in Wales. To prove this theory,  Parker Pearson needed to find that original site and set about searching for a Welsh stone circle that would conclusively link to the stones on Salisbury Plain.

Waun Mawn

They first looked at Waun Mawn, an arc of stones located just three miles from the quarries There are four remaining stones, one standing and three prostrate and they dismissed the site after a brief survey.

   He says; 'After having no luck with other circular monuments in the area, we returned to Waun Mawn for a final speculative dig.To everyone’s delight, our dig supervisor Dave Shaw discovered two empty stoneholes, one on each end of the arc of stones, where missing stones had once stood. Subsequent digs unearthed further stoneholes, arranged in a circle with an identical diameter to Stonehenge’s enclosing ditch.'

The next link in this chain of bluestone mysteries, would be to date these holes to find out when the bluestones were at Waun Mawn. Their erection and dismantlement turned out to be in the middle to latter part of the fourth millennium BC. This means there was a circle here, and it was constructed before the initial construction of Stonehenge.

'Most strikingly,' Parker Pearson revealed, 'we also discovered a stone chip in one of the stoneholes at Waun Mawn, which must have become detached from the bluestone pillar that originally stood there. It was confirmed as unspotted dolerite, a rock type represented by three stones at Stonehenge.

One exceptionally clear imprint  showed an unusual pentagonal cross-section. A computerised model of the Waun Mawn imprint and Stone 62 at Stonehenge showed that they fitted together perfectly: like a key in a lock.

The new discoveries also cast doubt on a popular theory that the bluestones were transported by sea to Stonehenge – taken southwards to Milford Haven, paddled up the Bristol Channel and along the Bristol Avon towards Salisbury Plain. But these quarries are on the north side of the Preseli hills, so the megaliths could have gone overland to Salisbury Plain. 

 But why would these stones be moved?

Posthole map

  I  think this might have to be to do with the

   Amesbury Archer, a young, sick man from

     Europe,  and the chip of bluestone found 

   in his pocket.   

   Ancient man may not have had Facebook, 

      but they were communicating; sharing. 

  engineering, astrological and scientific  

   knowledge, and also taking more deeply,

    about  spirituality, about shamanic

 experiences, about ancestors, and about

   the power of the naturally world. 

As someone who uses shamanic techniques in their day-to-day life, I know the importance of working with, and honouring, our ancestors. As a Druid, I'd say it is one of the main aspects of Druidry. But we shouldn't forget that the ancestors also honoured their ancestors; and within the hundreds of years that bluestone circle at Waun Man stood, and was ritually used, by those living around the Preseli Hills, those people had become the honoured dead to others around the British Isles; and beyond. It is unlikely we will every know why one circle was brought to another woodhenge, but what is clear is that now –– today in 2024 we can honour that, and bring those feelings of sacred work into our own lives. 

As ever your thoughts and comments are gratefully received.

You can watch the programme BBC TWO made on the finding of the original bluestone circle here

Here We Go a Wassailing...

 

Wassailing one of our younger apple trees

'Here we go a Wassailing' every year, sometimes around other people's orchards, sometimes just covering our own, which is a small, L-shaped space that surrounds the polytunnel on two sides and has about twenty productive fruit trees.

Wassailing may not have had much to do with apple trees originally. The word Wassail  is  most likely from Old Norse – ves heill – meaning  a beverage made from hot mulled cider, ale, or wine and spices, and used an integral part of  an Anglo Saxon Yuletide drinking ritual. 

At the beginning of each year, the lord of the manor would greet the assembled villagers with the toast waes hael, meaning “be well” or “be in good health”, to which his followers would reply 'drink hael,' or “drink well”, and so the Yule celebrations would commence! 

The word Wassail also makes an appearance as a toast that occurred right before the battle of Hastings began in 1066 CE. An Anglo-Norman poet wrote that in the last feast before the battle he heard a cry of:

Rejoice and wassail

Pass the bottle and drink healthy

Drink backwards and drink to me

Drink half and drink empty.

Wassil can refer to the act of toasting, the journey around village or orchard, and it can also represent the beverage that was drunk during the toast. Traditionally  drunk in a bowl, with pieces of toasted bread dipped in the bowl or floated on top, this practice has lead to the word “toast” to mean the lifting of a glass to honour f a person or thing. Beyond just being a drink and phrase, wassail is also a verb and “to go wassailing” is a tradition that likely has some fascinating Pagan origins, especially in the western region of England. 

By the Middle Ages, it had become a Twelth Night custom in England and Wales to go around the village with a bowl of wassail and sing carols, but in cider-producing areas, there would also be a blessing of the orchards, which involved drinking and singing before the blossom arrived, to toast the health of the trees in the hope that they'd provide a bountiful harvest in the autumn.  This ancient custom is still practised across the country today, revived in many areas, where there are now Wassail Queens to lead the procession.

Mari Lwyd is the name given to a Welsh wassailing folk custom that involves a giant horse’s skull carried from house to house. It takes place in parts of Wales during the festive season. Its popularity has waxed and wained over the centuries, but modern pagans in Wales keep this tradition very much alive, using a horse’s head cloaked and decorated with ribbons. The person carrying the head is hidden under the cloak, and has a pole which controls the horse’s jaw. Sometimes the horse’s eyes are baubles, or lights.Mari Lwyd is a Welsh tradition with its origins clouded in mystery, but back before street lights and telly it must have been pretty awe-inspiring to have a knock on your door, or a tap on your window in the long January night and find the silhouetted skeleton of a horse’s head peering in at you!

We go a-wassailing  dressed outrageously, drink deeply, sing loudly and have a great time blessing our fruit trees (and ourselves) with cider, making a good deal of noise. Originally, the fruit farmers would have taken shotguns into the orchard to scare away evil spirits – we make do with drums,  party poppers and leftover Christmas Crackers, while we sing ancient wassailing songs and rhymes. asking for a good harvest. 

Here we come a-wassailing

Among the leaves so green;

Here we come a-wand'ring

So fair to be seen.

 Ronald Hutton's Stations of the Sun moves through the seasons looking at traditions of the British Isles and  this year his account inspired us to Wassail our apple trees with apple juice from the October juicing of our apples. I'm particularly happy with that as I don't like cider! We chanted this wassail rhyme Hutton had included in his book...

Here’s to thee, old apple-tree,

Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow,

And whence thou mayst bear apples enow!

Hats-full! Caps-full!

Bushel, bushel sacks-full!

And my pockets full, too! Hurrah!

We like to follow the idea that there is also a spirit called the Apple Tree Man who is honoured during the Wassailing. The Apple Tree Man is the name for the oldest tree in the orchard and it is believed that the fertility of the orchard as a whole derives from this tree spirit. We give extra attention to the two eldest trees in our orchard, a Discovery apple and a cooker (not sure what!) which are now a hearty twelve years of age. We hang clouties in the branches, and often place the Yule wreath on a heavier branch, then  pour cider into their roots.

We are hoping for a mammoth crop of apples after all that hard work!

Winter Poetry for the New Year

For Badgered

I give the year-end party

In a good mood.

–– Matsuo Bashō

The first snow

That the young Hijiri-monk has

The color of the wooden box.

–– Matsuo Bashō

Deep Mid-Winter is the perfect season for haiku, those beautifully tight and rounded gems which originated in Japan, and here are some offerings for autumn days.

The Narrow Road to the Deep North, by Japanese poet, Matsuo Bashō, has been in my bookcase for several years, and every now and again, I’ll bring it out, read a few more of his wonderful haiku, and find myself inspired to write some of my own.  Bashō was born in 1694 and became a teacher, but loved to wander throughout Japan, far into the northern wilderness to gain inspiration for his writing. 

I understand that lust for walking constantly towards the horizon, although I also love wandering the lanes around my home and indeed, pottering around our mere half acre here at Rhos Hill, enjoying what we’ve created, dreaming my dreams, and planning the next garden jobs. 

When I turn to haiku, it’s often because I’m being influenced by the seasons, their turning and changing, because haiku are closely associated with linking humanity with nature. 

This is the season of Yule. The earliest mention of Yule is offered by the monk  Bede. In 725 A.D, Bede described the holidays of pagan Britons, Anglo-Saxons and Vikings, noting that the old pagan calendar combined the Roman months of December and January into a single period called Giuli. He wrote, “The months of Giuli derive their name from the day when the Sun turns back [and begins] to increase.” It's possible we get our word 'jolly' from this early derivation.

Deep Mid-Winter can be thought of as the celebration in medieval Britain from the start of Advent through to the last day of Christmas, at Twelfth Night, on the 5th of January. 

As a pagan, I celebrate winter from the beginning of November - from  the 'bleak, wailing winds' of Samhain right through to the end of January, when roots and branches and seeds begin to stir under the still-cold soil. That time, Imbolc, is just weeks away now, and celebrates the last tussle of the Cailleach, that great Celtic hag and creator deity, known as the Veiled One or the Queen of Winter,  who determines the winter’s length and harshness.  In February Bridget, goddess  of early spring, is ready to spread her mantel across the bare earth, to re-green it, but the Cailleach still wants to fight her and keep winter going for a few more weeks. 

Here are some of my haiku thoughts:

This robin, trilling

Waits for temperate weather,

Knows of hard winter

              ****

The ash bucket's full.

Still warm from evening's fire.

Thank the fruit trees for their crop.

            ****

Rosa Rugosa,

The syrup tastes of summer,

Keeps our colds away.

             ****

                                       

Fairy mist, surging

last night from the vale below. 

Now, trees drip like rain.

    ****

Midnight silent chill. 

In the branches, an owl,

white from moonlight, watching.

         ****

On the horizon

First rays of the young sun

Cold winter, farewell.

Happy New Year to everyone!

Time for the Winter Solstice to Heal Us All with its Magic

Some years ago, I was lucky enough to be standing inside  Newgrange. This 5,200 year old passage tomb located in the Boyne in Ireland is engraved with megalithic art and older than both Stonehenge and the Great Pyramids of Giza. 

We'd passed three alcoves as we moved through its interior which was lit by dim electric lamps. Suddenly, everything was black – we couldn't see our hands when we raised them to our faces. 

We waited. 

The tomb is engineered to be  aligned with the rising sun on the mornings around the Winter Solstice by a kind of stone tubing; a light box. This was a remarkable achievement so long ago, needing precise mathematical and astronomical measurements. 

After a few moments of being in total darkness a bright light shone onto the very back wall of the tomb. We all gasped and cried out in delight. It felt very real, despite it being the middle of May. This simulation of what actually happens in the depth of midwinter is something that makes up for the fact that the tomb is not big enough to accommodate all the people who would like to have that amazing experience at the winter solstice. It's a memory I will never forget. 

What it demonstrates, I think, very clearly, is that we are still those people, who can gasp and let out a cry of joy when there is light in the middle of winter. When the candles are lit, when the fairy lights twinkle, when the presents surround the tree which has been dragged in from the bare winter fields (or Tescos...), we know something magical and profound is happening.  

The solstice, and the festivals surrounding that darkest time, do bring us hope, joy and a feeling of peace. Perhaps that is because we understand, even in these centrally-heated times, how the return of the Sun's brightness and warmth affects us, pulling us out of feelings of depression or despair. It is the outward manifestation of Gaia herself, as the warming, lightening days presages renewed rising, budding and bursting, and she embarks on another cycle of growth. It is equally a manifestation for ourselves, the children of Gaia, as we sing carols, and eat too much, rekindle old friendships (at least through posting a card) and take joy in being with those closest to us. The Winter Festival, happening now for the Northern part of our world, is a joyful renewal of each individual life. 

Of course, this depends on circumstances: we take for granted  home, shelter, food, work and health, but not everyone has these things at this time. Grief and trauma can be triggered as the Earth goes through a  time of death and rebirth, a collective dark night of the soul. Places that are war-torn, or ravaged by an increasingly heating climate, are not enjoying the peace, joy and love most of us are part of. 

Taking time to practice your shamanic journeying can be difficult with so much going on. But even the simplest journey can allow you to have contact with your spirit guides, and animal allies, who are all compassionate spirits. If you do not have time to engage in a journey, why not walk out of your house; collect some greenery and breathe deeply in your local wildest areas. Allow Nature to take you right into the gentle beauty of the Earth.

People ask me if I celebrate Christmas, and I say, yes, in a way, I do, because these festivals of light are older than time –older than Newgrange – and they become, collectively, across the world, an act of ritual magic. 

Many, many people throughout the world celebrate this festival – whether for religious reasons or simply because they love it.  Children send letters to a kindly red and white spirit of winter, and reveal a magical transformation each time they tear off the paper to reveal their gift.  We all sit around the festive table, near a festive tree with a star or fairy or angel setting off this glittering cone. We pull crackers to make a bang, sending malevolent spirits flying far away, and toast each other, drawing benevolent otherworld beings towards us. We are more likely to write a cheque for a charity, allowing those 'giving' energies to flow around the family and outward into the wider community. 

If all of that isn't magic, I don't know what is. 

The Winter Solstice, and the midwinter festivals of so many different beliefs and cultures, give us that chance to practice wonderful transformational magic. And by doing that, there is hope that those who need to be healed, will be healed, and that those places which need healing will accept the heightened spiritual influences pouring down on us at this celebratory time. Let us all acknowledge the blessings of our lives and share them with each other.

Wishing you the gentle joy of the 

celebration of lights

that is the winter festival.

How can your Otherworld Spirit Guide Help You?.

"Mother" (c) Nataša Ilinčić

 She is tall, firmly built with dark, messy hair. There are fine lines around her mouth, which is almost always closed in a thin, foreboding line.  She wears a dark, flowing skirt, reaching to the ground, but above her waist, she is naked. She is nursing her child. She is always nursing her child to her breast –– for the first fifteen years that I knew her, and treasured out relationship, I hardly ever saw her without that child. A boy, with a blond head of curly hair. His eyes are blue, but more strangely, his body is golden. 

Isis with Horus
https://www.glencairnmuseum.org/newsletter/2020/11/12/
divine-mothers-power-and-protection

 She is my spirit guide. When I first asked her name, she told me; Esmerelda. When I asked the name of her babe, she told me to call him the Golden Boy.

I wonder what this symbolism meant to me at the time I met her, towards the end of the previous millennium. 

Goddesses who suckle babies are well-known and can represent abundance, nutrition, protection and love.  Isis is portrayed with Horus throughout  the ancient Egyptian period. She's become a powerful symbol of rebirth beloved of Ancient Egyptians, Romans and modern pagans alike.

The other suckling mother, is Mary, mother of Jesus, of course.  

I believe that Esmeralda is a highly evolved spiritual being, possibly as ancient as the early goddesses. Like all spirit guides, Esmeralda advises, nudges, and comforts. Like all spirit guides, she comes to help  me navigate my way through the otherworld, in order that I can use what I gain and learn once my eyes are open and I go about my life. My connection with her is  powerful and transformative for me; sometimes the things she says, or gives me or shows me can really make a difference to how I  experience my life.

I first met Esmeralda twenty-five years ago, in a shamanic journey.  At first, I found her rather daunting. Beginning to journey into the otherworld can feel intimidating or confusing for those who are just starting out, and it can take time to get to know and respect (and love) your spirit guide. At first, I would have to work hard to find her on a journey; I needed to creep past tigers or scale steep cliffs or work my way through underground caverns before she appeared. But once I came upon her –– sometimes quite unexpectedly –– she would offer what I needed. I learnt that, although she can be forbidding and stern, Esmeralda will always cared for me

 Nursing woman | Old Kingdom Egypt Giza

Once, I was journeying after finding myself in a difficult position in life; work was frustrating and everything in my family life seemed to be going round in circles. I was exhausted all the time. I journeyed with the intent of finding 'vigour' but by the time I finally found Rosmerta I felt completely bushed, even though I was, of course, simply lying on my sofa, with a scarf over my eyes. 

She came close to me, rested the Golden Boy on the grass beside us, and put her hands on either side of my head. Instantly, I fell asleep.  Possibly I slept for just four of five minutes; when I came back into myself, the drumming was still going and she was sitting on a rock, waiting for me. We spoke of life and of fear. Esmeralda's mouth is almost stationary when she talks, and her words form in my head. She reminded me that these feelings are the same for everyone; we don't share what we feel so deeply with each other. She reminded me of a previous journey I had taken some months before.

                      Nursing woman | Old Kingdom Egypt Giza

'You still have your Rods of Power'.

She was right; a journey into a strange building where I discovered these wand-like rods. I had forgotten about them, but I knew where I had hidden them, in my safe circle of trees, where I start each journey. I went to the bole of the biggest oak, and there they were. 

The Rod of Bran, who's head is buried at the Tower of London, which aids journeying

The Rod of Creation and wisdom, which is shaped from bone. 

The Rod of Hazel,  which can be used with any cauldron, and brings forth the power of my Muse 

The Power Rod, a wooden rod with a fork, which is stripped of bark and dipped in gold,  it is transformative, healing and turns drear to joy, so clearly the right rod for this occasion, where I felt completely spent with life and needing a bit of vigour. I pulled it out from the oak roots and raised it above my head and called out to the universe;

 PLEASE ENDOW MY SPIRIT WITH VITALITY!

PLEASE ENDOW MY BODY WITH STAMINA!

PLEASE ENDOW MY MIND WITH FORTITUDE!

And then I lay, quietly. In reality, I was on my sofa, but in my journey, I was on the cool grass of my tree-lined circle, allowing the power that had been outside my grasp only an hour earlier, while Esmeralda scooped up the Golden Boy and disappeared through the trees.

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        With the  blessings of a great read....Ninahare