Shaved trees and such.

West Kennett Long Barrow is one huge ridge with enormous underground burial chambers (although they were sealed permanently and purposefully 4000 years ago). And oak tree with prayer ribbons who gave me a leaf, and a huge Sycamore tree I sat in and who also gave me a leaf.

And then there were the stones. The amazing, amazing stones. They're big and gorgeous and surrounded bya ditch, that was originally a gorge with a big chalk wall around, grown over now, but the path is still set in it.

Anne is all about "why?", but I think that she needs to understand that sometimes, it doesn't matter. Her deduction is that the entire thing is an amplifier (which it definitely isS), with the stones as antennae. I agree, although it wasn't until I walked up the chalk hill path that it hit me with a wave of humming power. Those walls are amping it out, not in.

I kissed the stones, gave and asked my blessings, and in some cases, just said hello. Each one was different, although I don't think they are people, as such. They did have very individual personalities, though. One was so friendly I hugged him. Another, I touched my nose to and put up shields with, and used it to link into the ground. That one blessed me with a drop of water.

And then there was the center, with the Grandmammy and Daddy, off to the side watching over them.

It felt like everything in the fields of Avebury was deliberately places, every tree and bush. I wonder how old some of them are, how the humoungous trees must have once been babies, and I wonder which ancient trees have lived and gone in the lifetime of the stones. How aware these stones must be!

And lying on ley lines, to boot. Walking up to the barrow to the tomb, there was an exact line where I felt it. I looked up, and I could see the first stone of the tomb just over the crest of the hill. On the way back, I suddenly looked up again and turned, and it was the same spot.

Silbury hill we saw from a distance, particularly from the Barrow. It's a huge man-made hill where I think some important dead dude was buried. It just looks like a random hill in the middle of lots of fields, and it doesn't feel uber the way some of the other stuff. It's just always there. And then, when we drove right next to it, I looked out the window to see the wind whispering through the grass, and there was somethingthere. Something in the wind, in the grass, in the whispers.

I wish I could go walk up there and Listen. But the Head Druid apparently recently decreed that nobody can go up there anymore, just admire from a distance. If I were on my own or only with a partner in crime, I'd totally sneak up there.

And all the green growing things, the dampness in the air, the misty beauty of it all... I love it! Avebury would have been worht the trip alone (and we're only a day or two into the 6 weeks), but even just the atmosphere is amazing, seeing and realizing that North America is only part of the world, and a very small part at that. I mean, it's one thing to know, it's another thing to ecperience and discover.

Oooh, shaved trees!!

Sorry, we're driving to Bath right now, and there are oodles of bushy trees on either side of the country roads here. They've a very curious look to them, because only at the tops do they spill out over the road. Why? Because they're shaved!!

Lah.

PS. In case you haven't noticed, I'm posting my retroactive journal entries .