![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Good to be on the Locus list, in excellent company. Well done, you lot.
Today has been spent doing Imbolc things - ritual at the White Spring this morning, followed by a gathering of about 60 people at the Chalice Well. After a tea/hot chocolate break, we all walked down to Beckery, the area of Glastonbury in which Bride's Mound lies: this used, once upon a time, to be the gateway to Glastonbury:
http://www.friendsofbridesmound.com/
Long walk, though. We took the long way round and I estimate that I've walked about 5 miles today, which isn't massive, but I'm feeling it slightly. I walked in company with a customer of the shop who is becoming a friend, H, an indomitable lady in (I think) her late 60s or 70s, who has been an anthropologist and who is about to start a PhD on early domestic tools*. H brought a bundle of hazel wands from her garden (you can probably decipher her name from this action!) and after the ritual on the mound, she and I did some guerilla tree planting along a bramble-infested hedge. They may take, we'll see.
It's typical February weather: not too cold, but misty, grey and damp. Still, the Well was surrounded by snowdrops and crocuses and it smelled wonderful: they have a lot of flowering, scented winter shrubs for the benefit of blind visitors.
After all this I undertook some bookshop shopping, and an early night with tea is planned. Live wild, eh? I've done no writing today: it's a festival, dammit.
*She is also the mum of Paul Jenkins, of Marvel fame, and knows a lot more about graphic novels than I do.
Today has been spent doing Imbolc things - ritual at the White Spring this morning, followed by a gathering of about 60 people at the Chalice Well. After a tea/hot chocolate break, we all walked down to Beckery, the area of Glastonbury in which Bride's Mound lies: this used, once upon a time, to be the gateway to Glastonbury:
http://www.friendsofbridesmound.com/
Long walk, though. We took the long way round and I estimate that I've walked about 5 miles today, which isn't massive, but I'm feeling it slightly. I walked in company with a customer of the shop who is becoming a friend, H, an indomitable lady in (I think) her late 60s or 70s, who has been an anthropologist and who is about to start a PhD on early domestic tools*. H brought a bundle of hazel wands from her garden (you can probably decipher her name from this action!) and after the ritual on the mound, she and I did some guerilla tree planting along a bramble-infested hedge. They may take, we'll see.
It's typical February weather: not too cold, but misty, grey and damp. Still, the Well was surrounded by snowdrops and crocuses and it smelled wonderful: they have a lot of flowering, scented winter shrubs for the benefit of blind visitors.
After all this I undertook some bookshop shopping, and an early night with tea is planned. Live wild, eh? I've done no writing today: it's a festival, dammit.
*She is also the mum of Paul Jenkins, of Marvel fame, and knows a lot more about graphic novels than I do.
