The Mists of Avalon.

Glory, glory, glory
Beauty and power.
Here I sit, on Glstonbury Tor.
Glory Love and Marvelousness.
Beauty and power.

We arrived in Glastonbury proper--the festival is technically in Pilton, but I guess that doesn't sound as pretty--and weren't even gonna go up to the Tor (which is how I had consoled myself about the festival)!!

Although it seemed like quite the walk so I don't blame Anne for wanting to do it herself. I really wanted to though, and was much gratified when Blair agreed.

So the two of us climbed the Tor, step by step.

It sucked, but not nearly so bad as I thought it would from the distance, and not even as bad as Wreck beach in Van.

I'm also amazed at what good shap I'm in. Blair was dead but determined halfway up, and I only started to wheeze on the last stretch.

--

Yeah, yeah. I get it. Sometimes, Anne's theories of everything get irritating. Yes, I understand you're suppoesd to do everything with love and your full attention, even eating, but I don't need to hear it explained 4 million times what I already know as if it's an enormous new concept being explained to a schoolchild.

But I smiled and nodded. Anne's been good to us.

--

Anyways, I was talking about Glastonbury Tor.

When we got to the top, we were well rewarded for our efforts. The biew was entrancing,a nd I took a million and 2 pictures. The tower at the top was very tall, but not very big or wide. Just an open room with two arches on either side. I wonder how it was when they built it. Apparently, they originally built the thingie to St Michael, the dragon--meaning pagan--slayer Saint, as an "I am Christian, hear me roar, pagan scum!" monument, since the Tor was the site for oofles of rituals back in the day. It's on the St Michaels ley line, too. It's also a triangle with Stonehenge and Avebury.

We were gonna go to Stonehenge but since we forgot yesterday and you can't het close anyways, we all agreed to skip it. Part of me really wanted to see it since it's such a famous site, but the rest said to leave it in favour of other things and that it wouldn't be worth it, so I abandoned the potential bragging rights and voted for skipping it.

Back to the Tor again.

So, because you can never really give a "fuck you" to Mother Nature without eventual retribution, the tower was soon hopelessly destroyed in an Earthquake.

So they rebuilt it.

And then, I believe something else happened to it (a fire..?) leaving it the (albeit impressive) ruin it is today.

But wahtever the original purpose, it's on Earth's side now. Stepping into the archway to go inside, the wind slammed into my back, whipping my scarf around me and billowing into my clothers. There's real power in that wind, oodles of it, and it (the wind) stops immediately when you take even one more step.

But for that instant, framed against the arch, the wind fills you.

While Blair caught her breath and did whatever inside the thingie, I chose to go lay on the hill and absorb, catch my breath. I found the hill itself cooler than the abbey-thing. The view by itself is incredible; all of Glastonbury's visible. I'm sure if I looked hard enough, I could see the festival from there.

And then there was the ever-present hum.

You know, they say there's most likely a spiral maze inside the Tor. There are definitely many tunnels underneath, and people have been known to disappear and turn up in them, although since all the tennuls are closed at this point in time, I can't imagine that turning out too well these days.

As for all the Arthurian stuff, I don't know and don't really care. That place was there long before him and'll be there long after even the memory of him is gone.

I do wish I could see it as it was before the buildings and the grass, when it was an island called Avalon. It was misty over the Tor when we arrived, but by the time we started climbing it was all burned off by the sun.

Land between living and dead it may be, but in bright sunlight the effect just isn't quite the same.

Lah.