Yew

  Yew. Deep peace of the Grove. Silence in the back of my head. Like the Druid’s tonsure, forbidden at Whitby. When the Wild Celtic Church was tamed, Rome had its way at last. Or did it? The Yews still stand in churchyards. Ancient, filled with silence. The deep peace of the grave is not … Continue reading Yew

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