Round the Herne

On July 25th the local druids will be hosting a day of talks, discussions, storytelling, demonstrations etc. celebrating Celtic mythology and both ancient and modern druidry. I will be both talking (about Insular Cetic deities and ogam) and storytelling. The setting is a beautiful 15th century pub, the White Horse at Finningham, a few miles from Stowmarket. If anyone needs collecting from the train station, this can be arranged - provided you give advance notice! Details of ticket prices etc. can be found here - http://www.ipswichpagancouncil.com/dancingwiththedagda.htm

Driftwood Sea air heals, fills lungs ozone rich and fresh with hope So profound it pulls me far from this place in search. Solace sought on this lonely shore as waves sand stroke Ancient beats, such symphony as was heard in Greece – Far Poseidon melodies sang for wading youths. Brine swirls, soaking calves, ease brought as old bones flex strength, Time once ice-stiff melts away in warm ocean tides Age-old fears dissipate – reflected, weakened, solved. Deep dreamtides ebb and flow, sea currents raise lost needs. He moves, easeful on green-grey rips, swims to surface. Proteus dries in the breeze, warming on boulders, beached We eye each other, gaze sidelong as Apollo Holds two souls in his gold aegis. Chance before me, Too late I turn, but bare stone shelf is bleak display: The bold seal herder dives, he is gone, my mistake. Day slowly drags, sun fades along with my scant hopes. Heat fails to touch ash future, sadness drowns all gains, H...

Today was the sixth annual Eisteddfod in Suffolk, and the first one that I have not actually organised. Instead, this year Fiona Dowson organised it and I took part as a contestant. There were five storytellers and as many poets. The theme set for the stories was "goddesses", and the other tales told were an account of Macha's foot race, a legend told of Erzulie-Freda and one of her rather misguided lovers, the sage of Ceridwen and Gwion Bach (which one the contest), and the story of Perseus and his mother Danae. My own contribution was the story of Sekhmet, a near-identical version of which I have recorded from the comfort of my own sofa.

This tale will be revised in due course, as I'm not entirely happy with it. However, I wanted to post it in time for the solstice. The photograph was taken at 4.30am June 21st 2015, and shows sunrise on Dunwich beach in Suffolk. The creature emerged from the very tree itself, gaunt and bone-bleached. The moonlight pooled around the patch of ferns in the centre of the glade, but extended no further. Yet still the man-shaped thing was clearly visible, seeming to radiate its own luminescence. Nathan’s heart thundered with alarm as the entity moved slowly and stiffly towards them, as if it had almost forgotten how to walk. The merchant glanced at his son, who seemed transfixed by the spectre. The grandfather of the Turnkey clan sat on the back of the cart, too short-sighted to notice what was happening but shivering in the pre-dawn cold despite the thick blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders. The distant bells of the church struck the midnight hour and the ferns se...

I wanted to write a glowing review of a book on Goodreads, but it's not even on their system, and Amazon won't let me write a review until I have purchased a book via them (which I do not wish to do). So I have decided to post it here instead, and hope that it circulates to a decent-sized audience who will rush forth to buy the book and keep the author's in the public consciousness! 'The Ipswich Witch' by David Jones (someone I also happen to know via his involvement with the interfaith movement) is a fascinating and smoothly written account not only of the trial of Mother Lackland, but of witchcraft trials in general within Suffolk in the 16th and 17th centuries. The historical research is excellent and goes into far greater depth than any other book I have looked at on the subject. The author draws reasoned conclusions based on the evidence, and challenges some of the conventional thoughts surrounding both Lackland herself and also Matthew Hopkins, the infamous...

Having spent an absolutely lovely day down at the UK Wolf Conservation Trust (https://ukwct.org.uk/) in Reading, walking with the wolves in the company of two friends (and various strangers), I thought I would round the day off with a wolf story. This is the shortest wolf myth that I know, and comes from the Skidi-Pawnee nation of North America. It tells of how the Wolf Star (called Sirius by Europeans) took an unexpected role in the creation of the world. It's an interesting tale which has echoes to other stories from other parts of the world.

Happy Beltane everyone. My hawthorn tree is yet to blossom, so I haven't lit my two fires as yet - but many other people around the world are celebrating the start of summer in their own locales, so here is a story set at Beltane for you to (hopefully) enjoy. It's the story of the youthful Fionn Mac Cumhail and how he comes to eat the Salmon of Wisdom and so gain both vast knowledge and magical powers. It's a tale of blossoming adulthood, self-discovery, burgeoning passion, and the personal sacrifice of both a mother who gives up her baby to keep him safe, or two druid women who likewise give up the boy they have raised and loved to keep him safe, and an old druid sage who gives up the wisdom he has spent a lifetime searching for in order for a callow youth to have it. There is much more that could be said about this simple tale, but maybe I'll save it for some other time.