|
|

If you stand on top of the mountain, you can hear the winds whistle through the pines, watch the eagle soar overhead. The natural surroundings are impressive here, this mountanous island surrounded by shimmering waters, with a steep stepped waterfall, grassy knolls, shores, and underwater garden.
But it is a curious mix, gently touched by man, carefully set structures amid nature's glory. On the edge of the cliffs, sunstones, precisely cut stones, why? What purpose do they serve? A fire tower atop the mountain, perhaps to guide a lost ship? A stone platform affords a spectacular view, a small pier justs out into the water and ends with a little fishing hut.
Down below, between the woods there is a mysterious druid grove, a place of meditation and spirituality, still used for rituals.
And last, the wood henge itself, an ancient relic of times gone by, but still powerful enough to speak to us today.
All this tranquility and spiritual serenity, is then balanced with humor, with a bit of mischief, a log roll ride down the mountain, or a wild ride in the tar pit!
May the Circle be open
May the Circle be open, But unbroken.
May the peace of the Goddess be ever in your heart.
Merry Meet, And Merry Part, And Merry Meet again.
May the Circle be open, But unbroken.
May the peace of the Goddess be ever in your heart.
Merry Meet, And Merry Part, And Merry Meet again.
May the Circle be open, But unbroken.
May the peace of the Goddess be ever in your heart.
Merry Meet, And Merry Part, And Merry Meet again.
|
|
 |
|
Loreena McKennitt - The Mummer's Dance
When in the springtime of the year, When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew, Are dressed in ribbons fair
When owls call the breathless moon, In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear, Amidst the lantern light
Chorus
We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
Who will go down to those shady groves, And summon the shadows there
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms, In the springtime of the year
The songs of birds seem to fill the wood, When the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard, Long past their woodland days
Chorus
We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
And so they linked their hands and danced, Round in circles and in rows
And so the journey of the night descends, When all the shades are gone
A garland gay we bring you here, And at your door we stand
It is a sprout well budded out, The work of our Lord's hand
Chorus
We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
 |
|
 |
|
|