Tag Archives: photography

Bent-Black-Sun-Day…

 

*

“There is one thing that still troubles me,” said Wen who really seemed to have the ‘Rapunzel’ thing stuck in her craw.

“Yaas,” said Don, in his most irritating drawl.

“Shouldn’t the seasons be sisters?”

“On what grounds?”

“Well, I’m presuming that Mother Nature is an Enchantress precisely because of things like her ability to transform the world through her seasons.”

“This is true, Little Grub,” said Don with the kind of tired air which suggested he would not be around for very much longer, “but the seasons are really contrived in so far as they are useful for sustaining our life through crops. Agriculture is a technology. A very ancient technology but a technology nonetheless. In that sense the seasons are man made.”

“And that’s why we can have the debate over whether or not there are really three or four seasons,” said Wen.

“Or even two. In the four season year there are really only two pivotal points and their inverse or reflection.

Wen considered this idea for a bit and then pressed on with her original line of thought, “so the brothers are really alchemists?”

“The first alchemists, adding their art to nature, I like that, Little Grub, can I go to sleep now?”

“Only if you give me something to ponder while you’re gone.”

“You seem to be doing rather well in your pondering without me.”

“But it’s not the same.”

“Why, oh why, my Little Grub, would the day of the king’s death be now known to us as Bent-Black-Sun-Day?”

*

A short time later Don re-entered the temple room somewhat bleary-eyed.

“Better?” asked Wen doing a poor job of camouflaging her excitement.

“You have been grubbing,” stated Don by way of an answer.

“The bent twig of darkness grows the petals of the morning and shows to them the birds singing just behind the dawning.”

“Ah, Little Grub, ’tis music to my ears.”

*

Keys to the House of Don: Heart…

rs-203*

…’Wen is still worried about the insanity of it all… but fairy stories only appear insane to us now because we have become so separated from truth…

As children we accepted their subconscious logic intuitively.

It both satisfied our sense of justice in the developing weirdness of the world around us and reassured us that all would eventually be well again… in fact… was still well… even though it did not necessarily appear that way…’

The Heart of Albion.

…”That’s both disingenuous and tautological, Donald Sams and you know it,” said Wen displaying her grasp of formal logical terms.

“It may though, simply be mischief with a serious point.”

Wen said nothing.

“We know the builders of the megaliths had developed pin-point astrological accuracy with their, still held by many to be rather crude, structures, which by definition are anything but.”

“Agreed.”

“So, why wouldn’t they load their mythologies with such information? Especially, if it looked like they were about to be wiped out for any reason.”

“They could do that but the stories would have to have been operating functionally in order to be properly seeded.”

“Well, who’s to say they weren’t? The combination of cosmological and psychological truth would make for a pretty harmonious culture.”

“The one constantly verifying the other and vice versa?”

“Pretty much.”

“So that would mean every character should have both a cosmological and a psychological explanation.”

“Pretty much.”

“I think I can probably work out the psychological attribution of the three brothers.”

“Oh, you can, can you?”

“They’re the centres aren’t they, and that’s why they built the king’s castle because in a sense they construct the Ego?”

“Yes, they’re the centres. The warrior is the heart… The wizard is the intellect… and the smith is movement.”

“But what about cosmologically?”

“I think it allows us to posit a three season year for the ancients.”

“So, why are the brothers seasons?”

“Because they live by the sea and could thus be described as ‘sons of the sea.'”

“Ingenious!”

“Things are definitely beginning to look up but you can jolly well work out the seasonal correspondences for yourself.” …

*

Into the Hill…

rs-224*

…And the Wood-Stone started to glow,

White it was…

*

rs-225*

And I felt an impetus to take flight,

but only as far as the end of the passage…

*

rs-226*

Which is just as well, otherwise, I would have missed the golden glow now emanating from the chamber…

*

rs-227*

And all the ‘statuary firing up blue’,

as whatever it was lighting the chamber,

slowly made its way along the passage…

*

rs-228*

Passed through me…

*

rs-233*

Or around me…

*

rs-239*

And then out…

*

rs-240*

A short time later, still in the chamber, we found ourselves asking the question to which that had been the answer.

And if you are curious to know, how golden was the chamber?

*

rs-231*

It was Liquid-Sun.

 

Inner Sanctum…

rs-208*

Further vindication of our unscheduled return was granted upon re-entering the chamber.

The free standing stone and the facing stone, which were separated by space and shadow, were both now holding the light.

The light that some say would not have been original to the monument.

*

rs-218*

From behind, the standing stone still looks like wood…

*

rs-220*

…Dark Wood.

*

rs-222*

Still a little perplexed by the experience the previous day at the ‘Chant-Eater’ we ran through the nine-fold chant and this time got some good effects.

The middle three seemed to resonate most favourably which, being the heart triad, would make a lot of sense here.

After which we re-made our dedication…

*

rs-243*

Our timing was beginning to appear propitious…

*rs-223*

But then we noticed that the ground was turning red…

The Hill in a Dark Grove, reprieve…

rs-181*

We had known for some time, courtesy of Rupert Soskin, that the resident stone of the inner chamber at Bryn Celli Ddu is part of a petrified tree trunk.

*

rs-173*

And once we had our eye in it became apparent that other ‘chunks’ of petrified wood had been used in the construction of this chambered tomb.

*rs-176*

At least two, and almost certainly more, of the ‘entrance’ or indeed ‘exit’ stones and the lintel of the passage itself readily conformed to the strange specification.

*

rs-169*

This was very exciting, for while we may have been able to extrapolate a workable symbolism behind the use of such material for the stone of the inner chamber, this symbolism was, perhaps, not so readily applicable to the surrounds of the passage-way…

*

rs-170*

And was also, possibly, an indication of a more utilitarian function for these stones.

*rs-180*

The mind… began… to boggle.

Verily, Verily…

rs-204*

The thing is…

It is impossible to ‘do’ such sites in one visit.

In fact, it is not possible to ‘do’ such sites at all.

If anything, they ‘do’ you, if you allow them.

As we were about to learn…

*

rs-203*

The stone I was interested to get a closer look at is a, one would hope,  carefully positioned, replica.

The original, carved stone, is now in a local museum for safe-keeping.

The orientation of the tomb is, according to the authorities, towards the midsummer sunrise, so time-wise, at least, we were half a year away.

But I think it is clear that something is going on here with sun and stone, especially as it becomes obvious that a second outlier in an adjacent field also lines up with the stone and ‘passage-way’…

*

rs-199*

All things which would have been missed had we not returned when we did, but the best was yet to come…

Never Look Back…

rs-187*

The first thing to remark, apart from the increased Avian Activity Quotient…

Was, the difference an hour makes.

*

rs-195*

Was it simply the movement of the sun?

The progress of the day…

Or had the site responded to our earlier visit?

*

rs-201*

Given our theories on the sensitivity of these sites…

It could well be either, or both.

One thing was certain…

*

rs-205*

We were seeing more…

And were about to see a lot more.

Harbinger…

rs-001*

It has been surmised that the future enters our past in order that the present may form…

Sometimes it certainly feels a little like that.

For one thing it has been twenty-seven months since our last sighting of a Heron which, if memory serves, occurred immediately prior to our sojourn in Bryn Celli Ddu…

Whatever the books on symbolism or divination say, in my experience, the Heron is a harbinger of change…

What sort of change and when that change is to take place is often quite another matter…

But change…

…Is coming.

*

rs-004

Encryption…

*

Now they had unleashed the hounds the outcome of the chase was inevitable.

One shard of memory alone held hope…

Slipping into the museum without paying could only encourage capture…

The dark arches spoke of deep secrets too arcane to delineate…

Out of the shadowy recesses a thin form materialised.

Did that wan smile ever waver?

I stuffed the loose package between clammy fingers and turned to leave…

“Clavis!” she hissed, and disappeared.

Already the concierge was blocking my exit with his bulk…

Outside the wild yelps and bays rose in anticipation…

Was that laughter I heard amid the fury?

*

A Trigonometry of Seeming…

*

The gnomon holds a special position

in the annals of architecture:

It is to time what the fulcrum is to movement.

*

Would, then, movement be anything without time?

*

And yet, for the gnomon

to tell us anything,

we have to move around it…

*

Continuously

shifting our perspective,

before the position

is finally shadowed forth…