Wayland's Smithy

 My mind is like those many faceted silver balls of light that glittered in the dance hall that turned as we danced when I was young.  Those days it was The Twist but now multiple memories float past....  Yesterday they were talking about grief and apparently I seem to be going through this last phase of memories always popping up.  I am sure Facebook encourages it for it pops up memories every now and then, yesterday was Wayland's Smithy. 

 

Falling in love with its stories embellished over the ages, this Neolithic tomb has acquired a Scandinavian tale to add to its mystery, I have read a children's story about it, the White Horse of Uffington nearby galloping along the Ridgeway bringing those frightening figures from the dark.  But Wayland the smith according to the legend would shoe your horse if you but left him a coin at the tomb.

I went several times along the long path to this place, actually restored by archaeologists in the 1960s, it lies, rather beautifully amongst the trees.  I remember once there was a pagan ceremony for scattering the ashes of a megalithic person.  I took my son Mark along with flowers I had picked from the garden.  People scattered along the Ridgeway Path, till we came to Wayland, the rain had started by then and everyone sheltered under the tree, I remember sitting next to a youngish shy man, who saw himself as the Guardian of Wayland, his nickname was 'Wysefool'.  He also died a couple of years later sadly but he loved the place.

I had taken my rather reluctant son on this walk to emphasis that one could have a happy ending to life as the ashes are scattered around in nature.  The ashes of the person we scattered her nickname was 'Treaclechops', a brilliant writer, Paul always admired her work.

In the nature of memories and writing, the whole scene becomes vivid and yet whatever I remember of that damp wet day as we all sat under the trees and chattered, it was good.

As was the day I came alone, as I often did, my family were not great walkers, though now, both children walk for relaxation, you see world I did have some influence ;)

The day I came alone with Moss is caught in this photograph, he is sitting under a tree, see his beloved ball is there to.  I had sat on the ground for a long time, inhaling the atmosphere and meditating and he wants to move on and chase his ball.  The golden Autumn leaves of the beech trees tells us the time of year.

Perhaps it was that day or another, but as we walked along the path, ahead I could see a man behaving strangely, he kept jumping off the path disappear for second or two and then jump back on the path.  Dilemma, what to do, be brave said I continue walking, Moss was always a good defending dog.  I drew abreast of the man smiled and said hello, he laughing, said 'don't worry my dog is in the woods  and I have to keep checking him'.  Fears ungrounded.

I would carry on writing but coffee is calling and I am happy that I was able to write today, perhaps that is what it is all about writing the memories away.