Samhain and East Coker
More photos from the Dragon’s journey
Elusive – the teaser. Chris Turner’s quest to find elusive creatures like Bigfoot and Dogman.
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Seance with the amazing Kreskin
Brexit means Brexit
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Cheiro and Mata Hari…..
The History and Practice of English Magic
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Bigfoot in Britain…..
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Case Profile: Medium Ena Twigg…..
Off the coast of south-west Wales there have, for centuries, been reports of mysterious otherworldly islands inhabited by a peculiar people. On rare occasions ‘the Green Isles’ are sighted still. They are said to be what the ancient Welsh poem, Preiddeu Annwn, calls ‘the Gwerddonau Llon’, the happy haven, the green fairy islands of Wales.
This video includes many photographs of the stunningly beautiful North Pembrokeshire landscape – and one or two of the fairy isles themselves.
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The Disappearance of Silence…..
13-year-old Maxwell Loughan on God, physics, dimensions and universes…..
Tintagel Castle and Merlin’s Cave, Cornwall…..
The Stranglers: No more heroes…..
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James Bartley interviews Tom Montaulk: Occult Mimicry of Alien Contact…..
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An insightful and relevant short tale from Welsh tradition. Its sentiments reminiscent of the Cathars, or ‘the Albi’ -which is another name for the elusive race people know as elves and fairies.
Gwraig means ‘wife’. The plural is ‘gwragedd annwn’.
[An] enamoured farmer had heard of the lake maiden, who rowed up and down the lake in a golden boat, with a golden oar. Her hair was long and yellow, and her face was pale and melancholy. In his desire to see this wondrous beauty, the farmer went on New Year’s Eve to the edge of the lake, and in silence awaited the coming of the first hour of the new year. It came, and there in truth was the maiden in her golden boat, rowing softly to and fro.
I felt called to a beautiful location close to where I am for the Solstice sunrise. It’s an extraordinarily atmospheric and mystical place in the foothills of Dyfed’s Preseli Mountains. Many times I’ve had wonderful experiences in several locations within a very short radius. It is in a word, ‘Magical’.
Churches are closing and many are falling into ruin. I love visiting old church buildings. Everyone will miss them when they are gone.
I haven’t attended a communion for years, but I will do again one day. I go on my own, or very occasionally with a friend or friends. What I feel more than anything else, in almost all of them, is the centuries of love and devotion that infuses the ancient stones…and a sadness too, in many. Mostly it is feminine energy, probably because it has almost always been women who have tended them.
Thomas the Rhymer, the famous thirteenth century Scottish mystic and poet, once met the Faery Queen by a hawthorn bush from which a cuckoo was calling. She led him into the Faery Underworld for a brief sojourn, but upon reemerging into the world of mortals he found he had been absent for seven years. Themes of people being waylaid by the faery folk to places where time passes differently are common in Celtic mythology, and the hawthorn was one of, if not the, most likely tree to be inhabited or protected by the Wee Folk. In Ireland most of the isolated trees, or so-called ‘lone bushes’, found in the landscape and said to be inhabited by faeries, were hawthorn trees. Such trees could not be cut down or damaged in any way without incurring the often fatal wrath of their supernatural guardians. The Faery Queen by her hawthorn can also be seen as a representation of an earlier pre-Christian archetype, reminding us of a Goddess-centred worship, practised by priestesses in sacred groves of hawthorn, planted in the round. The site of Westminster Abbey was once called Thorney Island after the sacred stand of thorn trees there. Hawthorn
I will really try to make this the last time that I bang on about this.
We need to recognise that the calendar is an artificial construct designed to control human beings and their behaviour, to disengage them from Nature and their free role in, and responsibilities to it.