“Strange how these, now hollow, structures
always appear to be associated
with a hill.”
“Had we more time,
it’s one we would be duty bound to climb.”
Well, it didn’t take us long to get there did it?
But let’s ponder a moment
what this structure could mean…
We could call the two flanking uprights,
Summer and Winter,
or Night and Day,
or Them and Us,
and it would not really matter which was which.
If we did that though, what would we call the holed stone?
If ever there was a monument that ought to be regarded as fake.
This is surely it.
So far as we know it is unique,
although there are many holed stones.
The others are usually uprights, stand alone, and have much smaller holes.
But if it is authentic, and we have never come across
any suggestion that it is not,
then it is an indication that the ancients
ritualised, and that they thought symbolically.
This should not come as a surprise.
These strange, narrow tracks betoken something,
exhaling us where they do
with little work to accomplish.
Would we have found them without
Ballowal Barrow or Boscawen-Un?
And even if we had,
would they still have been the same?
“I think that’s what people mean, by tangential.”
“It’s got a ‘wen’ in it!”
And if we had not already twigged
that really should have clinched it!
“How are they pronouncing it anyway?”
“‘Bosk-a-Noon’ – ‘The House of the Elder-Tree.'”
“They’re ignoring the ‘wen-bit’ then.”
“Or, we could just call it hidden.”
“How do they do that?”
“Make a stone that size disappear.”
“Well, at least it’s not yet started walking…”
By the time we left, though,
all the stones in the circle had begun,
what we call, ‘morphing’…
And somewhere a horn was sounding.
“If I didn’t know better,
I’d say the Wild Hunt was abroad.”
…Well, if they did,
they also intended us to work for it.
Part of our problem proved to be scale.
What we call a lay-by is large and well marked.
What they call a lay-by is more of a ‘passing-point’…
And on a fast road, is easy to miss,
or pass-by, which we did,
at least three times whilst actively looking for it.
Another part of the problem
is sign-posts disguised as fences.
Anyone would think that they do not really want visitors to find
But as we were about to discover,
some experiences are well worth working for.
Although we didn’t know it at the time,
Ballowal Barrow is a ‘Faery-Fort’.
It is situated close to a now disused tin-mine
and miners, during the late nineteenth century,
upon finishing their night shift, are said to have seen
lights burning over the barrow and faeries dancing there.
It would explain the sense of caution with which we approached the site.
Getting on the wrong side of the Faery-Folk is never advisable.
And it did feel like we were being watched, observed, or monitored, by something.
Still, as our intentions at these places are generally honourable we managed
to escape with our wits, more or less, intact.
Though, curiously, for the evening was still young, our sojourn there signalled the
end of adventures for that day.
Perhaps, they had some thing in store for us on the morrow…
After our pre-historic village and our cause-wayed isle,
we return to Lands End, ostensibly, to at least,
again, consider ‘doing-the-touristy-thing’…
Only to find that our dragon has been dining out on pea soup
and that the parking charge would in all probability be wasted…
We know that Carn les Boel is on the coast
and that from there Lands End is visible,
but whether Lands End would be visible in this,
even from Lands End, is another question altogether…
Ballowal Barrow presents itself as a convenient ‘half-way house’,
which is at least sign-posted, so we head for that instead.
‘It’s that way’…