Friday, 8 April 2011

Touching The Earth

Another sunny spring day has just dawned and I am preparing to take Pops, my dog, for a walk and a run at St James Green, after which we will go to my allotment.  This time of the year it is hard work.  I have grass paths between my beds and the grass grows faster than anything else on my plot.  So I need to cut and edge the grass again!  However there are also two beds that need digging over.  I need to sow the parsnip seeds, put in the plants I have grown, water every thing, hoe out the grass and weeds in the beds......

Pops loves it at the plot she has to be on a lead but she has a bed she can dig, has a bucket to chase and chew, footballs and squeaky toys to play with.  She also has a bowl of water and treats and biscuits.  There are birds, helicopters, and people to bark at.  She also gets lots of hugs from my friends and neighbours at the plot. Often she just chills out enjoying just being there.  She helps me to remember that my plot is my haven a place where I can be still and quiet.  Here I can meditate,  open my Reiki basket and send healing to all those who have requested it, to family friends, our Earth and to world situations. 

 Pops has an enthusiasm for and joy in life and for the:

The present moment
Wonderful moment

When I take a break and put the kettle on  and make a  cup of tea I often hear in my heart space  Thich Nhat Hanh mindfulness verse:

This cup of tea in my two hands
Mindfulness held perfectly
My mind and body dwell
on the here and now

blossom time at the plot

As I sow seeds, nurture my plants and my trees, dig the earth I feel a connection to the earth and nature.

I am very grateful for the seeds that grow into the fruit and vegetables that I harvest, for the beautiful flowers I grow, for my trees, for the Earth.  

I am grateful for my allotment it is my haven  and retreat,
and for Pops my beautiful dog.

Tuesday, 5 April 2011

The woman I was - another tall story

In this story I have re-imagined The Call of the Fianne by Fiona Davidson

This is tale of  of young woman who encountered the Fianna.  The Fianna was a band of  ferocious warriors. Fionn
Mac Chal was the most  famous leader of the band.  They pledge to protect  Ireland  His  son Oisin was the last brave warrior of the band. It is said they will return if the  they are summoned for Ireland's defence.

The woman that I was young and blessed on that day   It was a bright and warm day in late September and I walked the track way across the Bog of Allen to collect mosses and  then on the woodlands beyond to collect autumn's bounty, filberts, sloes, berry and fruit to provide for winters dark cold days. 

I am a healer following in the tradition of the old religion as my mother and grandmother and those others far back in time.  Today they call us the cunning folk and our healing is hidden from sight of the monks.  But never mind our troubles as today my heart sang Coilm had declared his love for me and we were to be married in spring.

My basket was soon filled and I placed it down and climbed to the top of the  DĂșn of Allen.  When I crested the summit I saw a black clouds streaming towards the hill.  I turned back picked up my skirts and began to run home. The darkness over took me and I missed stepped, I stumbled and almost fell.  I felt confused and lost. The wind and freezing sleet lashed at my cruelly.  Bent double I reached my hands in front of me to feel for the path.  My hands encountered a rock wall and a niche in the it which might shelter me from the full fury of the storm.  as I felt my way into shelter I found that it opened up into a cave. 

I slipped inside feeling me way along the side of the rocks.T he wall was running with water and moss gave it a soft velvet feel  I lent against the wall as  I began to regain my breathe which echoed around the cave, but  as my breathing stilled I heard the breathing of others.

 "Who is there" I called.

No answer.

I called again, "Who are you."

Again no answer.

Fearful I flung my self back against the wall of the cave and felt my way back towards the entrance.   .  The breathing filled my ears there was more than one living thing in the cave. My eyes growing accustomed to the dark could make out rocks hunched together.

As my hands sought to guide me back to the entrance I felt something in hole in the wall I grasped it.  A horn my fingers had grasped  Dord of Finn

A voice called

"Woman blow the horn"

I was afraid to blow it, trembling I heard again that voice echoing around and around the cave

"Blow the horn", it commanded.

Mesmerised I put the horn to lips and blew it.  The sound echoed round the cave.  The rocks shudder and rose up 

"Blow the horn again," came the terrible voice. 

I shivered and shook but the voice compelled me to blow the horn again.  This time I saw the rocks move and take on the shapes of men.  I heard the ring of swords on rock.  I was so fearful I collapsed to my knees.

"Blow the horn a third time," came the voice.

I cried, "No!" 

I was filled with a dread, I saw  a vision of Ireland in terrible strife. families and communities divided, blood  pooled on the street and the sound of women weeping.

The voice screamed it's command again  to blow the horn a third time


The horn dropped from my hand and clattered onto the floor of the cave.

The Spell of the voice  was broken and  I crawled trembling from the cave

Then I ran and ran until I could run no more. 

 As dusk fell  Coilm became  fearful that I may have strayed from the trackways through the bog.  He searched the way I had gone and found my basket. He was filled with fear that the bog has swallowed me up.  Distraught he search and called my name.  Eventually he found me trembling, fallen to the ground in mortal fear. as if I had been struck down.  I could  still hear that terrible voice howling it's  command, 

"Blow the horn a third time woman."

"Blow it."

And I could still see the stirring of an army of warriors and  I could still feel the terror which filled my being. 

Coilm picked me up and carried me home.  I lay senseless for days and  when I woke I felt  exhausted and could not remember what had happened.  .But that  dreadful voice haunted me in my dreams and I would see the shadows moving in the dark, in the morning the nightmare would fade from my memory, but sometimes  in the day I would jump at shadows and feel a terrible sense of dread.  I preferred to go out collecting herbs and mosses with someone rather than be alone out there on the bog or moorland. 

My life has been good and long,  my children have prospered Coilm and I are loving parents and grandparents and our love is true. My granddaughter learnt from me how make our  cordials, balms and salves and as times have changed sells them openly at market.

Now lying here in the shade of this great oak my soul remembers the woman that I was and sees the vision of the cave and Finn Mcall, Oisin and the warrior of Fianna trapped in time   I wonder should I have blown the Dord that third time and set the Fianna free.  My old soul knew that when the horn was blown for the first time true Celts all over  the world knelt and touched the ground and on the second blast they looked skyward and there entered into their hearts a yearning they knew not what for.   Even today the Irish travel the world seeking an intangible dream. Some of them seek the Dord of Finn to awake the Fianna.

I asked you here  now,

"Would you?"

 "Or you?"

"Or  may be you?

 "Would you have blown the Dord of Finn that third time?"

"Would you have woken Finn Mcall, Oisin and the warrior of Fianna?"

With blessings

Merry Rambler

first draft
Hazel Tree Story Teller