Category Archives: Ancient Sites

Wayland: The White Horse…

The Silent Eye

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But according to some, Wayland has far more onerous

responsibilities than shoeing the horses of passing way farers…

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A group of local lads were enjoying a drink

one evening at the White Horse Inn, Woolstone,

when an unknown man wearing old fashioned garb

entered and ordered a pint of the local beverage.

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He wore a leather apron, a tall hat,

and he took his drink and sat

to one side of the ale-house by himself…

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After awhile the sound of a horn rang out

and could be heard

echoing eerily through the vale…

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Startled from his reverie by the horn,

the stranger leapt to his feet and hobbled

out into the night, his pint unfinished.

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As the uncanny sound faded over the downs

the locals looked out and up to the hillside

to find that the White Horse was gone!

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When dawn broke…

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Seeing the Unseen…

 

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“There is a distinction between images seen in the ‘memory of nature’,

and the vision of actual beings now existent in the inner world.

Just as one may close one’s eyes and see a vivid picture memory

in the mind’s eye, or, one may look and see actual images with the physical eyes.

When seeing these inner beings the physical eyes may be open or shut

but if open these beings are not seen with the physical eyes.

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It is comparatively easy to see while at ancient monuments

because such places are naturally charged with psychical forces

and were for that reason made use of long ago and deemed sacred.

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The inner beings fall into two classes; those which shine,

and those which are opalescent and appear lit from within.

It is very difficult to intelligbly describe either class of being.

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The first time I saw the shining beings I was lying on a hillside.

I was listening to the music of the air and to what seemed to be the sound of bells

and was trying to understand the aerial clashing in which each gust of wind seemed to

break upon another with an ever changing, silvery sound.

Then the space before me grew luminous

and I saw one beautiful shining being after another.

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The first opalescent being I saw, there was initially just a dazzle of light,

and then I realised that this light came from the heart

of a tall figure seemingly made of air.

Throughout the transparent body ran a radiant, electrical fire

of which the heart seemed central.

Around the head and through the waving luminous hair

which was blown about the body like living strands of gold,

there appeared flaming wings like auras.

Light seemed to stream outwards from all directions

and the effect of this vision left an extraordinary lightness, and ecstatic joy, of being.”

– A Seer Speaks

 

 

 

 

Wayland: The Blessed Isles…

The Silent Eye

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The tone of the tale once Britain is reached,

becomes very different…

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Alighting on Berkshire’s High Downs,

Wayland came upon an ancient chambered tomb,

and made it his home.

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Tradition now has it,

that if ever you are riding the Ridgeway,

and your horse loses a shoe,

you need only tether it nearby,

 leave a silver-sixpence on the uppermost stone of the tomb,

and on your return your horse will be shod and your money gone…

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Wayland, it seems, never works while being observed.

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Wayland: Silver-Smith of Souls…

The Silent Eye

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There are a number of intriguing aspects to the legend of Wayland Smithy…

The earliest written sources appear late and are decidedly piecemeal.

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Wayland is the son of a God, Giant, or King of the Otherworld.

He is schooled in metallurgy by Dwarves, whom, in skill, he quickly surpasses.

He lives, hunts, and works alone in a region associated with wolves and bears.

One day he comes upon a swan-maiden bathing skin-less.

He finds her skin, appropriates it, and she lives with him for nine years.

At the end of which time she discovers her hidden skin and flies away.

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Wayland is then taken captive by the King of Sweden,

maimed to prevent escape and set to work on an island…

Wayland surreptitiously kills the king’s sons, turns their skulls into goblets

and presents them to the king and queen.

Their teeth he turns into a brooch…

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The Initiate…

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I dream of light-flowers erupting from hilltops and wake up feeling refreshed and looking forward to our planned trip to the Uffington hill carving and Wayland’s Smithy despite the gloomy weather.

I cannot really blame Wen for this one because it was my idea but even that was strange… its passage from idea to manifestation took place like the growth of some improbable multi- faceted Chrysanthemum…

First there was Lee telling me about his trip to the famous long barrow and me waiting and waiting and expecting at any time some inkling as to the naming of the place.

I had previously disclosed to him the Raven-Stone hidden at Hordron‘s… and had felt sure that he would be on the lookout for something similar but if he had been then he obviously did not find it.

Then again Lee did not really appreciate the ramifications of the Raven-Stone.

Who would?

I am not sure I do, completely.

It is difficult to grasp that the way the ancients saw the same things we see was so radically different… I had been slightly envious of Lee getting to Wayland’s before me but that envy was assuaged somewhat by his apparent lack of discernment and the small… still… voice… telling me that it was not yet time and that the timing of these things was almost as important if not more important than any kind of discernment.

And then the Wayland’s image kept turning up when it did not really fit… I had been experimenting with images and quotations and linking them through meditation.

It appeared that while words appeal primarily to the intellect, images are intrinsically more emotionally charged but repeated use of the two in conjunction can afford an approach to the fusion of these two normally separate centres.

The images were predominantly culled from works of art with the exception of the Wayland image which was simply a photograph… of place!

It was incongruous but insistent…

‘…What do you really want from the use of this image?’

‘I want people to visit the site as a prelude

to embarking upon their new spiritual journey.’

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Avenues…

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And from Needles of Stone,

to Avenues,

or at least, what remains of one…

The ‘Mary Line’

runs right through the two stones

which had ‘called’ to us from the roadside,

And would once have been ushered by the avenue stones

into the Avebury Ring.

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Koyt Tredhewi…

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And then, we came across this…

Although, ‘came across’ is maybe a little inaccurate.

We were definitely looking for this one, having a host of quoits to go at, for some reason or another, this one stood out, and we were not disappointed.

Also known as, ‘Chi an Kowr’, the Giant’s House, Trethevny Quoit, just happens to have a Dragon-line running through it, and boy can you tell, only it is not the, ‘Michael Line’…

So maybe that should be ‘girl can you tell’.

Though, we did not know this at the time…

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