Summer photo 5 ~ Magical and Outlandish

This July, we took a visiting friend to some magical places.Our first stop was Clava Cairns. Even though the cairns are ancient burial chambers this is a happy mysterious place. We've been there at virtually every time of the year and the area always has a lovely peaceful vibe.

There are three main cairns, set in woodland. Each one is surrounded by a ring of standing stones. There are four more covered cairns in the surrounding farmland and other standing stones in the fields that could form a walkway or markers.

This chamber entrance is directly aligned with the midwinter sunset, same as Maes Howe in Orkney. The standing stones also align with the Winter Solstice.

The cairns also have  cup and ring mark stones.

One thing amused me recently, thinking back to Clava. I was looking at the Outlander series, by Diana Gabaldon. 

The series starts with the heroine, Claire, being flung back in time after touching a standing stone. The problem is her stone circle is supposed to be on a hill near Inverness. There are no stone circles like the book describes. Clava is the closest, lying just beyond the Culloden battlefield.

Another strange thought - Jacobites probably fled the battle through these stones...

... which makes this bit of Graffiti on the nearby viaduct all the more ironic!

From Clava we travelled on to the Black Isle, to look at Munlochy Clootie Well. It is a bit of a climb to get there, up the hill. You can already see the "cloots" (bits of cloth) tied to the trees.

There are a LOT of cloths and clothing tied to those trees! For those who do not know... a Clootie well is a sacred spring. Often healing mineral waters of some kind. 

 In ancient times they were the homes of goddesses, but most were transferred to The Virgin Mary after Christianity arrived. The belief is that you dip your cloth in the sacred water and then tie it to a tree as a prayer for healing. As the cloth degrades your illness will fade. So it is not advisable to leave an item that is not biodegradable! The well in Culloden Forest was part of the May day spring celebrations right up into the 1960s, but it is in a very sad vandalised state nowadays. We try not to go there. It's too sad.

On the way back to the car a young man going up the hill asked us if we'd seen any fairies. Our friend was a bit startled, thinking he was joking, but he assured us that his mother had often seen fairy folk in the woods as a young woman. He told us he was there to give thanks. He had left a cloot and been healed of an illness.Strange, magical and outlandish...

Summer Photos 2 - Bishops, The Wolf and Photobombs

My next set of photos are of Elgin Cathedral. Or the ruins, to be exact.You can click on the photos to enlarge them. Elgin Cathedral was built in the 13th century. It must have been a very impressive and lovely Cathedral.

A former Bishop (Alexander Bur 1362–97) described it as, "the ornament of the realm, the glory of the kingdom." 

So what went wrong? War, of course. Elgin was a powerful centre in its day and much fought after. The Cathedral was damaged several times, but the worst fire damage was thanks to The Wolf of Badenoch in 1390. The "Wolf" was the ferocious and fearsome Alexander Stewart, third son of King Robert II of Scotland.

Here are the doors of the West Front. This section is still fairly intact.

I took a close up of the stone Bishop through the doors...

This cheeky guy photobombed my view of the front. Couldn't resist adding him. ;-)

And finally... a panorama view from the nearby castle of Duffus. Duffus was built in the 12th century, on the edge of Spynie Loch. That seaside loch no longer exists. It's all farmland now. But back in those days ships would sail past that castle, right up to Spynie Palace, which was the where the Bishops of Moray lived.

Something Very Old for the Weekend

I used to post a music video every friday, for weekend, when I first started blogging. I thought I might start that again. :-) This one, however, is a saga rather than a song. It's a portion of the story of Beowulf and it is being accompanied by one of my favourite antique musical instruments, a hurdy-gurdy.

Beata Femeros Mundi - by Matthew Yrigoyen

A while back I came across a lovely poem and recently I managed to make contact with the poet, Matthew Yrigoyen, who most graciously gave me permission to post his work here on this blog.

Watching her move through these golden moments,
the stride of Athena quivering in her limbs,
the whisper of Quan Yin trailing in her song,
the amber light of Beata Beatrix illuminating the
pace of her thought and the Grace of her gesture -
Shining through it all, a Crystal Spring,
glistening under fallen sacrificial leaves,
the Celestial Virgin shimmers,
raising up her Woman's flesh,
clarifying her Galactic Sight.
The greater her surrender in Carnal Wisdom,
the Priestess penetrating the mystery of elevated passion,
the more she assumes her Woman's power;
the more iridescent the snow of her heaving slopes;
the more gleaming is the foaming wave
caressing the edge of her ever widening shore -
The more we meet the Radiance of her Soul,
as she borrows even our Breath and spins it into Light.

'beata femeros mundi'
copyright of, the author, matthew yrigoyen

I recently posted cave paintings to illustrate the similarities between ancient animals and the endangered species at the Highland Wildlife Park. I thought it was apt to keep that theme going here, by posting a carved cave goddess - an ancient Venus to remind us of how ancient man saw the beauty of woman as mother goddess.... just as Matthew sees the beauty of the goddess in the woman.  

 The Venus of Laussel

Ancient Wildness

The thing I love about the Highland wildlife park is that you feel like you're stepping back through time, since most of the animals there are rare or endangered species that once roamed Scotland or Eurasia thousands of years ago. Some of them look like they just stepped out of a cave painting...

Bison in Altamira Cave, Spain.

The European Bison we photographed at the Park...

 

 Wild horse on the cave wall at Lascaus, France...

 

Prezwalkski's Wild Horse at the Park...

 Giant prehistoric deer at Lascaus cave...

Huge Forest Reindeer at the park...

A Blessing for Solstice

Blessed Be the Natives,

for they hold the Roots to the Tree of Life,

and Dance our Trails upon the Earth.

Blessed Be the Speakers,

for they hold the Truth for Us All,

and Sing our Songs to the Sky.

Blessed Be the Old Ones,

for they hold the Visions of Wholeness,

and Embrace Us until we Awaken.

~ O'siyo ~

John Roman

...

Four Hundred Rabbits

...
I was browsing the internet recently when I saw a small mention of the Aztec dieties called Centzon Totochtin - the four hundred rabbits.

Four hundred Aztec rabbit gods?

I couldn't resist finding out more about these ancient Buns. What I found was even more fun than I expected. A lot of the time mythology can be a bit... dull, but not when you're dealing with rabbits.

It seems the four hundred rabbits aren't just gods - they were the gods of drunkenness and partying. The ultimate playbunnies, it seems? Wikipedia has this lovely photo of an Aztec drinking vessel shaped like a rabbit, for holding the alcoholic beverage Aztec bunnies love best - Pulque.

And there I was thinking our wild bunnies spent the festive season tucked up underground in semi-hibernation... they probably popped on the karaoke machine, got out the carrot gin and celebrated their ancestral gods all winter!

No wonder we always have so many baby rabbits each Spring... ;-)
...

Castles in the Air

...

A few weeks ago hubby and I met up with a friend in Edinburgh and then went down to look at Rosslyn chapel. We first visited Rosslyn before it was made famous by the Da Vinci Code movie/book. Back then it was a quiet magical place. Nowadays it's a bit too crowded for my tastes, and you're no longer allowed to take photos inside, but it still an incredible place to visit. The magic is still there... but you need to find a spot to be still in, to find it.

I've always been drawn to the land around Rosslyn. Here's the view from the back of the chapel, looking over the wall and down into the river valley below...

Before we drove down I had a look online to find out more about the area. It turns out that you can visit Rosslyn castle for free, but most people don't even know it exists. I can understand why - from the chapel and village itself there's not a sign of a castle. We had to ask for directions and were told to leave the chapel and go on past the cemetery...

The trees in the valley are so big and lush you can't see much as you walk along...
Then you turn a corner... and there it is - the ruins of Rosslyn Castle. Home of the St Clair family since 1304.

You have to cross that "drawbridge" (an arched bridge) to get to the castle. Yes, that is a house in the background. It was built in the centre of the ruins and is now available as a holiday rental. That bridge is VERY high. It's hard to get an idea how high from photos. It took hubby two photos to get from the walkway and tree tops to the ground. I joined them together...
Which also means that those trees some of the biggest I have ever seen in my life, since some of these trees rise up from that valley floor, up at least three storeys and then on more to a height of about two storeys ABOVE the walkway level! They are HUGE.

Here's a view of the walkway to the castle from within the castle walls, or at least what's left of the walls on that side...
The pinkish sandstone has eroded into the most lovely ripples over time. It's like the stones each have their own fingerprint.

You can see why the castle is barely visible from these photos below - Nature is the mistress of Rosslyn these days...






...

Celtic Crosses

...
I found photos I'd forgotten about today. I took these on the 10th of May last year. Kind of funny I should remember them almost exactly one year later! To see the detail on the first two you'll need to click on them to enlarge.



...

A Most Remarkable Woman.

...

photo courtesy of clarita

Shastri sent me a link to some wonderful photos he took recently of Navagrahas statues, the planetary gods. Their names triggered a memory I'd forgotten - how the hands of Fate led me to meeting a most remarkable woman.

In 2001 I was working as an astrologer (birth charts for advice and career guidance) and had a small column in a local newspaper. One day I answered the phone to a most unexpected caller.

A woman, with a beautifully elegant Indian accent, told me that she had been informed that I was "the one" and would I please come visit her to pick up my books.

My books?

In the course of conversation she explained that she had a large collection of astrology books that she had decided to donate to a worthy astrologer. Unsure who to choose to inherit them she had torn out the photos of all the local astrologers, from papers and magazines, and dowsed them with a pendulum. The pendulum had chosen me.

And that is how I first met Siromani. I thought, at that stage, that the story could hardly get more strange and wonderful, but how wrong I was!

A few days later I made my way up stairs to the flat where Siromani lived. I rang the doorbell... and a tiny woman came to the door. Small in stature, clearly quite elderly, and very much NOT Indian. Her faded hair still showed traces of the pale blond it had once been and her remarkably bright eyes were a clear sparkling blue. I thought there must be some mistake, but the moment she started to talk I recognised that lovely voice from the phone call.

How does a blond blue-eyed elderly lady in Africa come to have an Indian accent? By living a very adventurous life. Over a cup of tea Siromani told me how she had been born in India, of Scandinavian parents. She had spent her childhood and early adulthood in India and that was where she had studied astrology and dowsing. After marriage she had moved to Africa, where she had worked as a building constructor, an engineer and a water dowser.

Now, a month before her 90th birthday, she felt it was time she started studying something new and more challenging. So she was getting rid of all her old books and focusing on books on herbal medicine and alternative healing.

How many people decide to start a new study/career at the age of 90?

I spent a magical afternoon listening to her stories of India and Africa, discussing astrology and books in general. She was one of the most vibrant and alive people I have ever met. I went away with a box load of antique astrology books and ephemera, but the gifts she gave me that day went far further than that.

As I was leaving I noticed a book tucked into her chair next to her. It was the same book I was reading and I commented on that fact. A book on archeology. I was actually finding it a bit boring, but she said it was well worth the effort and that I should go back home and finish reading it.

I did finish the book and it was worth the effort, but not in ways you might expect. The book led me to pottering on Google looking for more information on some of the ancient civilisation. That in turn led me to joining an archeology forum...

... and that was where I met the Highlander who became my husband.

Coincidence, luck, or Divine intervention through the stars? Who can say? All I know is that gaining a husband was a truly unexpected gift from a most remarkable woman. :-)

photo courtesy of Kevin Rosseel

...