Today, I went with a lovely friend to recce the spiritual and sacred sites guided walk at Breamore. The dense fog which was forecast didn't appear, instead the sun burned through the clouds, and encouraged us to peel off a layer of thermals!
Pheasants dashed across our path and rustled in the hedge as we made our way up the hill. We stopped halfway to admire the views across barrow-filled lands and hare-filled fields before arriving at the mizmaze.
Whether you are sensitive to land energies or not, you can't help but lower your voice to a whisper when you stand in the silent and sheltered space of the mizmaze. Conversations become deep and reflective, as they are absorbed by the surrounding yew trees, which draw you into the enchanted grove. Evidence of children's play, by the making of dens and offerings of nature left by folk on a pilgrimage of different intentions, I'm sure, comes from the energies originally brought to this land.
Colourful yew bark of entwined trees stand in their own shade amongst a moss carpet, mole hills and dog mercury where a "crookedness of crossbills" chattered from the canopies.
If you are tempted by what is beyond the Grove, you will push through to the wilds of pastures and hedges, where you can make out the giant's grave barrow. Between the Grove and the barrow are the guardians of this sacred land: a vast badger sett. I am sure these stoic residents' ancestors have been here as long as the trees.
Heading back downhill in bright sunshine and blue skies, we made a visit to the Saxon Church with its very ancient yew tree, possibly one of the oldest in the forest and predating the church. We tried to make out the ancient etchings on the wall and stood for a moment with the sun on our faces and snowdrops at our feet to watch buzzards synchronise their flight, as they flirt with buzzes and calls. It was a moment of feeling great to be alive, but I'm not surprised. Breamore always brings the magic!
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