Skylark soared high above as we steadily climbed the hill to the sacred site. We marvelled at the clarity of his voice, his unbroken liquid sonnet welcomed us to his landscape. Laden with drums, sacred tools and blankets we reached the circle and took in the medicine that sacred places offer to those who visit with intent to connect.
We knew we were in for a treat. Friends old and new were gathering here to drum up the blood moon, to walk with the spirit of the place, to drink in the energies that swirl here and to work our craft with the rise of the moon.
As the circle gathered we placed our altar on the heart of Arbor Low. Healing water, crystals, amulets, nature finds and more were laid ceremonially around candles and incense.
Welcoming the nature spirits and elementals into our circle we opened the four directions and then waited in silence, eyes fixed on the eastern horizon. A faint red glow pierced a distant group of trees. ‘She’s rising’ someone called, and sure enough the blood moon loosed herself into the sky.
Enthralled by her intense colour and the flicker of clouds that shrouded here like a thin veil of gossamer we drummed, we sang, we chanted, we bathed in her beauty until she was clear of the horizon. Then we returned to our circle to use the energies that were pouring down from her and rising up from the beating heart of Arbor Low.
Our many drums sang one song as we worked our craft, one song that rang loud and clear through the night sky. The cosmos circled overhead joining the dance of life that our ancestors have celebrated for millennia. Arbor Low witnessed our ritual and strengthened our connections with spirit, nature and each other, binding us together as earth guardians ready to continue the work we were brought here to do.
Our ritual of transformation and transmutation was simple, few words were spoken as we worked to eclipse that which no longer served us and sought guidance on our next steps along our individual spiritual paths.
Time seemed to merge into the fabric of the land as we each took our turn in the sacred circle, high on drumbeat we barely noticed the chill of night fall around us until our ceremony was done. In darkness we thanked the land, the elements and each other before weaving our way down the hill.
Tawny owl serenaded us.
Our work was done, Blood Moon would now do the rest.
With thanks to Rachel Tytler and Nicola for the images.