Today is such a liminal day, isn’t it?
On the threshold of the turning of the daylight, I can almost feel the coming spring.
In amongst the bare trees are huge balls of bright green mistletoe reminding us that even in the bleak mid-winter, there is life.
Here in the neighbouring village of Stanton Harcourt, at the little lake beside the henge called The Devil’s Quoits, everything feels so exposed.
The harsh, cold and low sunlight exposes everything.
Each branch is laid bare.
I saw a kite spread his wings and hover over the meadow. There is no cover right now.
On the little lake, the birds huddle in small, mismatched flocks.
I walk the mile or so down the little path and come to the henge.
This is not THE STONE HENGE, but it is a Neolithic stone henge some 5000yrs old and vibrates with magic and the spirit of the priestess who was buried in the center.
What magic and mystery lies underneath the ground only the rabbits know as they burrow into the heart of the henge all around the 120 meter perimiter ditch.
I come here as often as I can.
I feel connected to this henge and to the light of the priestess underground.
I don’t feel compelled to visit Wiltshire and the very public henge on this day and join in the massive pegan celebration. I’m content to walk this ground in quiet contemplation.
I walk around touching each stone feeling happy and at peace.
I stay to watch the sun set behind the East stone, say goodbye to the dark, and begin to look forward to the light reclaiming the night minute by minute.
Have a blessed winter solstice everyone.