For once, I wished I wasn’t driving. I wanted to stop every few minutes and get the camera out… the whole area is very beautiful, but the road between Nevern and our next stop in the Gwaun Valley exceptionally so. We were rdiving in a convoy though and it was fairly obvious that, had we stopped, we would be hopelessly lost. The narrow roads winding over hill, down dale and through the trees was not a place for loitering…and anyway, our guide had promised us cider.

We had been told to expect an unusual pub and that was  a fair description in this day and age when even the old inns are being taken over by chains, decorated in bright colours and given a modern twist. Bessie’s, officially know and the Dyffryn  Arms, looks more like a home than a public house. Owned by the same family since 1840, Bessie…

Source: Independent.co.uk David Keys August 5, 2016 The mysterious origins of the British archaeological site most often associated with the legend of King Arthur have just become even more mysteri…

Source: Dark Ages Royal Palace Discovered In Cornwall – In Area Closely Linked To The Legend Of King Arthur

In previous years, the Silent Eye has released a workbook after the annual April workshop. In Song of the Troubadour and Land of the Exiles, we published the script of the five-act psycho-drama that forms the basis of these events with contributions from some of our companions who shared their personal impressions and stories.

The aim was to show exactly what happens on a ritual workshop weekend for those with no experience of such events and to give some insight into the Silent Eye.

Rather than continue publishing scripts in their pure format, we have sought innovative ways of presenting the inner ideas behind the stories we have woven as the central theme of a spiritual teaching workshop. Last year, the script for River of the Sun was turned into a serialised, fictional adventure and shared on Steve’s personal blog. It will eventually be released as a standalone novel that…

This was one of the magical moments at our family wedding on Saturday…

I was looking forward to Nevern Church… another one of those, like Kilpeck, that we would visit ‘one day’…and were visiting at last. To think that we had seen so much since Kilpeck, just three days before, seems incredible. But that’s the way these trips seem to work… time takes time off to stretch for a while, leaving us space to play. The trouble with some of these places, though, is that you come across them in researching other places…and forget what it is that you actually wanted to see. All I could recall was that Nevern was home to the Bleeding Yew and was, in fact renowned for its avenue of ancient yew trees, some of them over 700 years old.  Just like Kilpeck, though, we found far more than we imagined.

The Bleeding Yew is not an uncommon gardening phenomenon, but few have a place in legend…

At a recent meeting, one of our Companions, a woman of both Beauty and Grace, read us a short piece she had found, that she had written many years ago. We asked if we could transcribe it and share it here:

As life is more in touch with the Spirit now… as you begin to see the curves and twists of the Spiral Dance, the only reference you need is the ability to manoeuvre through the valleys of uncertainty that loom towards one in the unseen mists of repetitive uncertainty. The leap of faith is definitely needed then.

Traversing the many hills of weakness and temptation, eventually a plateau is reached from which the view is overwhelmingly in favour of Beauty of Being and the joyful acceptance of one’s inner state reflecting, like a mirror, that eternal landscape from which we draw our sustenance, life everlasting.

It is obvious…

We didn’t have to climb the whole height of the mountain; there is a makeshift car park about halfway up. I was glad of that, as my poor, much abused feet were not happy. I spend much of my life barefoot, the soles of my feet offer better protection than most of my shoes these days and anyway, I like to feel the earth beneath my feet. Left to my own devices, I would have walked in the flimsy lace slippers that allow them to breathe and expand, but common sense demanded the walking shoes be worn. It would be a long way to carry an idiot with a twisted ankle back down the mountain and we had been warned of a scramble over loose scree at the top.

Walking shoes come into their own in rain and winter weather…or when crossing the boggy stretches of moorland born of upland…

Our little convoy left the ancient site playing follow-the-leader on the narrow roads. The car in front of me had instructions, in case we lost the lead car, on how to get to the car park for a quick comfort break before the next stop of the weekend. What could possibly go wrong? Well, for a start there was the traffic that separated the party. Then a sign for a car park saved the day. Except, when we nearly got there, it didn’t seem to match the instructions. Off we all went looking for the right car park… to no avail. So we went back to the first one. Which was nice and had the necessary facilities, besides being right on the beach…

We tried calling, but there was no answer. We decided that the best course of action would be to stay put and wait for rescue. A decision…