I’ll be heading to the UK in March for some vacation and a bit of a magical tour. Aside from getting the usual things in order, like flights, lodging, and passport renewals, I’ve also been thinking about which places in Cornwall I’d like to revisit. I’ll be all over England and will only have a day or two in Cornwall, as opposed to my trip last year when I spent a full two weeks in the county. I can’t guarantee where I’ll visit yet, but I thought it would be nice to recount some of the most moving places I visited last year.
I had never known a peace or power like that before sitting beneath the center stone of Boscawen-Ûn. The wind was gusty and brought a chill; the rain drizzled unto my skin. And yet, beneath the stone, I was warm, dry. It was a sense that came from within me, the stone having put it there or brought it out. Each outer stone pointed its energy to the center; the center stone sending it out, like a beacon. O how peaceful, how lovely you have left me, Boscawen-Ûn!– Notes from my journal, 1 May 2018
Standing stones dot the Cornish landscape, and Boscawen-Ûn is an impressive example of the mark that Bronze age peoples left on the peninsula. As with a number of other Cornish stone monuments, you park your car about a mile away and then trudge through muddy pastures before finally coming face-to-face with a truly awe-inspiring site.
Boscawn-Ûn was incredibly peaceful. It was as if the world stopped there and time was paused, or rather, non-existent. It felt like it was unmoved, with everything else revolving around it.
The energetic pattern was also quite interesting. Each of the stones in the ring pushed energy to the center stone, which is larger and pointed upright. The center stone took the collected energy and shot it out into the Universe. It was very much a material Cone of Power.
The Mên-an-Tol consists of a large holed stone with two heel stones, one at each end. It features quite a lot in Cornish folk magic, thought to lend cures and blessings, and to send changelings back to the fairy.
I visited Mên-an-Tol with a friend who isn’t spiritual. However, even before we could see the monument, he went, “Holy shit,” and he was right. The entire area buzzes with energy. I could feel its waves rapidly zipping through my body and mind. When I finally caught sight of Mên-an-Tol, I exhaled loudly, as if I had just run a mile.
The entire structure glows with energy, and it seems to function almost like a battery. Energy is passed from one heel stone, over or under or through the holed stone, to the other heel stone, and back again. And it’s a lot of energy. I wanted to do some working there given the reservoir of power, but I wasn’t equipped. I guess there’s always next time.
What is the color of your goddess? Why, she is the damp of the green moss as it clings to the rocks of the chamber at Carn Euny. She is the moisture nurturing life, keeping it safe from harm. She is the silence that you don’t hear in that earthen womb, the serenity and terror of oneness before birth. That is the color of my goddess, the bold and beautiful Down. I have found her.– Notes from my journal, 1 May 2018
Carn Euny was occupied from the Early Bronze Age into the Roman occupation. It is an absolutely fascinating archaeological site. You can see the layers of culture as the structures progress from subterranean passages to stone huts in a village layout. While the entire site is really cool, there was one feature in particular that got to me.
The oldest extant structure at Carn Euny is a underground circular chamber, the entrance to which is pictured above. Entering the chamber causes everything to go quite and a unique warmth envelops you. I instantly recognized this setting.
For most of my Witch life, I have worked with the goddess Danu, who is Dôn of the Welsh, and, as I hazard to guess, would be transliterated as Down in modern Cornish. I’m sure I will write more of her in a later post. For now, it’ll suffice to say that she is the Mother of the Gods, connected with sacred rivers and with the bounty of the land.
During meditations, she has at times taken me to a place that I’ve come to recognize as her dwelling. It’s subterranean, with mossy stone making up walls that lean inward in such a way that you know it is a spherical room–but it is so high you can never see the top. There is a pool of water in the middle, and a throne beyond that. This is the palace of my goddess, as she has shown it to me.
As I crouched and entered the chamber at Carn Euny, tears formed in my eyes: This is what Danu had shown me many years before. I meditated for awhile, exploring the connection to that place and its energies and how that tied in to my understanding of the goddess. Water from a recent rain dripped from the stone walls, playing a reassuring lullaby, as a mother would sing to her child. This was truly one of the most profound moments of my life.