Tuesday, 2 December 2008


...and other griefs can be very strong at times. Much as I love it here and feel empowered and all that stuff, I can still deeply miss what I left behind. Not a day goes by that I do not weep. So, a picture of a magical, sacred place wherein live wonderful people and a love that cannot die.

Picture from the BBC


muzuzuzus said...

That looks like Glastonbury Tor.
beautiful picture.
When I was 15 many many moons ago, I was taken to Glastonbury, because it was favourite place of the faeries.

The guy who arranged it had very powerful Windowpane LSD.
We got there, and when the sun began to set we took the acid. I remember scambling up the Tor, and it was like a big dark green furry egg

We got to the mount and entered the
shelter, and Tripping out of our minds we were up there all night.

Everytime I see a picture of the Tor I get a magical feeling!

Paul said...

The older I get the more I am aware of a deep connection to the land. I don't mean country, or nation, or people. But the land itself - Mother Earth of home.

It reminds me of the way ancient peoples took the soil of their land with them when they travelled to maintain that very deep connection.

Leon Basin said...

Yea, hang in there.

Brian Charles said...

Thanks for the story, Muzuzuzus, I did not get to Glastonbury until many years after my experiences with acid, but it was still highly magical.

The connection that I feel is very deep - bred in the bone is an expression that fits. Interesting what you say about the soil, Paul. It reminds me about the story of that embodiment of Victorian fears about this part of the world, Dracula, and his need to sleep in a coffin with the soil of his homeland.

And thanks, Leon. I intend to.