Tag Archives: photography

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.

*

He wore a leather apron, a tall hat,

and he took his drink and sat

to one side of the ale-house by himself…

*

After awhile the sound of a horn rang out

and could be heard

echoing eerily through the vale…

*

Startled from his reverie by the horn,

the stranger leapt to his feet and hobbled

out into the night, his pint unfinished.

*

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!

*

When dawn broke…

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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…

*

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.

*

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.

*

 

 

 

Glimpses Beyond…

The Silent Eye

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‘A wonder of a land,

the land of which I speak.

We behold but are not often beheld.’

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Perfected art can accentuate things,

and make them more attractive to the eye and mind,

but it cannot enhance the innate spirituality which men of all ages have held.

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There seems never to have been a time

when tribe, race or nation did not hold

some sort of belief in an unseen world

inhabited by unseen beings.

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Everything which can be said to exist is natural,

yet the Holy-Man who experiences the spiritual condition of ecstasy

cannot adequately explain it to the man who has not known it.

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If the Ancients possessed an arcane language

to encompass such psychical experiences,

it still remains a secret.

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But the natural aspects of the countryside impress Man

and awaken in him the Subliminal Self

which in turn inculcates an…

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