A Year In Albion

One day, it came into my mind and heart to go to the land of my ancestors… I made that first trip when I turned 50. Chance–or was it synchronicity–put my arrival the day of the Anderida Autumn Camp.  I got off the plane and onto a train to Lewes, then cabbed it to Camp. … Continue reading A Year In Albion

Cauldron’s Rim

Cauldron’s Rim My cauldron is rimmed, not with pearls, but with Blood Red Roses. Spirals graven there over the year we stirred the Awen together. Scored by the stirring stick, colored by the brew, One for each one of us together in the task. Black the Cauldron’s rim. Once it stretched from Wales to California. … Continue reading Cauldron’s Rim