Saturday, October 20, 2007

The Boleigh Sacred Way

Tuesday October 16, 2007:

There may be a sacred way from Boleigh Fogou through the Pipers and Merry Maidens to Tregyffian Barrow and Gûn Rith. It was too wet to walk it this day.

Boleigh: Tregyffian Burial Chamber
Hard by the Merry Maidens, the Tregyffian tomb is a 4,500 year old example of the Scillonian type of tomb or barrow. north-west of Lamorna village, it lies on the grass verge next to the road.

Gratefully, I climbed down and sat under its huge sheltering stones - The three slabs, set slightly apart did not provide complete shelter but they were enough for now. I sat, propped against the sides, legs outstretched and breathed in the musty, mouldy smell of underground chambers.

Despite the crampness, I found myself drifting off. I was hiding in the chamber. I was safe and not to be found. It felt comfortable to curl up here and just listen to the wind and the rain and the occasional passing hoofed creature. All was peaceful, but I would have to get out and face the music sometime. It might as well be now. I climbed up from the chamber, my woolly hat, moss smeared and green with lichen, and began to march damply across the fields.

Gûn Rith

Gûn Rith stands sternly if neatly in the Cornish hedge, its feet surrounded by briers, near the Maidens. Today, as I stood with it, it offered no wisdom. I stroked its rough surface and moved on.

The Pipers

The two Pipers were another matter. Standing tall and wide, the first Piper acted as plinth to a seagull with an eye on the aesthetic – it posed against the dark grey sky. This stone was scored deeply, the runnels encrusted with snails trying to keep out of the rain. I patted it, thanking it for being there for the seagulls and snails.

We moved across the field to the second stone. Wider but shorter, this one stood at an angle and seemed to offer shelter. I leant against her whilst my companion receipted Doreen Valientee’s Charge Of The Goddess.

All around us the rain fell softly. I breathed in The crushed grass’s sweet odour. Behind my closed eyelids, a tall curved presence rose up, mantled, flowing, arms held in front of her as though giving or receiving or even already holding something. An inner peace fell upon me as I received Her presence and I bowed low in reverence to her. She stood and just *was*. She observed but I did not feel scrutinised, simply *seen* - and I allowed myself to accept the gaze in humility. All was still till, with another squally gust, the rain spat in my face. Time to go. Bowing low to the great presence still standing in front of the second piper, we left to walk back to the car.
Holed Stone

On the way, my companion spotted a holed stone. It was acting as a gatepost. It is traditional for lovers to clasp hands through the hole to symbolise a handfasting. I put one hand through and grassed it with the other as a symbol of my commitment to myself. “For that which you seek you find not within yourself, you will never find it without.”, I thought speaking the pledge to myself.


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