Many evenings I have returned to my B&B before nightfall and have had the pleasure of watching the lights coming on in the houses below the Tor. This B&B sets on the foot of the Tor and overlooks the Chalice Well Gardens. The house was built on the site of Dion Fortune’s temple–one of the reasons I chose this spot.
Below the front garden is the White Spring and people are there all the time collecting water. Some of them are very matter-of-fact and some of them are as high as kites–and then there is everything in between.
Across the lane from the White Spring is a stone wall that holds a run-off pipe for the Red Spring–which lies inside the walled enclosure that is Chalice Well Gardens.
Towards the edge of the macadam lane there is a steady rivulet of water that rises up through the blacktop, finding its way to freedom down the edge of the road. Is it neither Red nor White, I wonder? Is that irrepressible bubbling forth the sign from Nature that water’s essence can’t be contained in myth or story but has to be experienced viscerally?
During my workshop today there was thunder and a wild few minutes of rain–this was repeated a few times. The room would cool and then warm up again and then cool. We even went outside at one point and enjoyed the fresh breeze from the walkway.
I leave here Monday for some time at the beach. I’ve really enjoyed Glasto, as they call it, more than I have at any other visit. I’ve had time to settle in, to get to know shopkeepers and the lay of the land.
And to enjoy those small golden lights stretched out like stars in the pastures and along the roads below my window.