rise and root



The Flame Haired Solstice Dreamer

Cold winter brings the Everfrost and jewels every tree
In a forest new as birth and old as old can be
A flame~haired dreamer wanders there and shelters from the wind
And spins her dreams around the trees to break the ties that bind
She takes her thread and spins anew and how the Greenwood smiles
As she spins a spell for freedom and for her spirit Wylde

The dreamer finds an ancient oak and shelters in his lee
In a forest new as birth and old as old can be
Tis summer now and birdsong weaves its magick through her spells
And humming bees drum drowsily in the foxglove's bells
The dreamer sits beneath the oak with yarn upon her knee
And spins and knits and weaves her dreams and sets her spirit free

"When birds fall from the sky and the animals are dying, a new tribe of people...shall come unto the earth from many colors, classes, creeds, who by their actions and deeds shall make the earth green again. they will be known as the warriors of the Rainbow"

Hopi Prophecy

~of being sidetracked~

well what a surprise weather wise the free spirits camp was!

it was warm when we drove away from the forest.
we followed the motorway for a short while and skirted the sea port i was born in and where branches of my ancestor tree go way, way back to the time of Henry Vlll and beyond.

we crossed the great chalk hill that looks down over portsmouth and passed a little place called Butser where they have the most amazing ancient farm then onwards, skirting a place called Buriton where generations of my portsmouth ancestors and more recent family, my nan would take my mum, uncle and aunt each year and many residents of their road would go to pick hops each year

in fact my mum was talking fondly of their yearly 'holiday' last week.
they lived in a street of two up, two down terraced houses in an area developed right near the docks in 1796.
the whole street was made up of a true extended family-everyone living there was related.
this was part of the poorest part of the city and getting away each year, even if it was to work, really was a holiday...

Hop-picking usually took about three weeks around September. Local children were all expected to help and were given time off school. Casual labour, mostly from Portsmouth, was employed as well as local pickers. Many of the Portsmouth families came back year after year.
In the early years they used to be fetched in wagons from Petersfield Station: a wonderful sight as they all arrived. Some would camp opposite the Maple Inn (now the Master Robert) in Heather & Bakers field, lighting campfires at night. There were many tales of how the local gamekeepers were kept busy ! There were also reports of drunk and disorderly behaviour suggesting that much of the money that the pickers earnt was probably spent in the pub !

you can find more from this source here
finally we reached the field behind a pub that was the home for the dolmen gathering of free spirits...

1 comment:

dubgirl said...

The weather was wonderful for camping this weekend just gone. My Dad always talks fondly of going to Kent hop picking with his family as a young child. This was only 'holiday' his family had from the slums of london. If you have seen/read Angela's Ashes then his upbringing was not that far removed from that story. x

All things share the same breath~the beast, the tree, the man, the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.

Chief Seattle

Johney Gaul~1915

Johney Gaul~1915
1890-17 september 1918~France