Wild is Beautiful


Finding the entrance to this hidden valley no mean feat, seeking out the way to this special portal to Embercombe, all the portals and gateways along the highway here lead to the ordinary beauty of our Land along this  journey trackway here.

Discovering an old painted sign hidden in brambled hedgerow, black writing flaking into white, this gate with grass grown around its rails, open and welcoming yet with no notices of arrival questioning your trust that the sign was meant for here, for you.

Before you a tarmacked road unfolding into a runway for small aircraft stretched out from the entrance  gate to the hill mound seen down in the distance. This runway a gateway to our past, our imaginings of flying into the the skies, evocative and exciting our ability to be with birds, to be with clouds, tracings of higher worlds.

Sat nestling near this gateway a small stone with a plaque, a dedication to our Land, were you to read it you would observe this dreaming Landsong  all laid out before you on this woven emerald cloth.

Families of Deer freely roaming, occasional sound of a Stag singing in the distance, Deer often glimpsed at Dusk, at Dawn in quiet times of grazing gentle in this dreaming valley. Most time suddenly appearing in view as if from beneath the ground disappeared in an instance, observing and knowing us long before we see them.

As you travel down the runway over to the South, a line of five yurts  nestled  on the edge of the wood like string of pearls from a necklace.

Further down an entrance into the wood a place to cross the little stream, here up into woods a Grandmother Beech tree in these early times receiving lots of attention for her stature, her grace, who later walked out of these woods leaving some remnants of her skirts still to be admired by those who are seekers, stalkers and dreamers.

As you walked on down you would discover the grand tin houses built for the aircraft  on the northern edge of the land following alongside you as moved and stepped westerly along the track, here near the hill mound the great turning circle for the planes their take off to the skies place, their returning place to earth. Scots pines and small hill hold this place now. Moving further down this track  a smaller tin building — this for helicopters  for a long time a concrete slab laid  out in front with a sundial on it ,this sundial now sits in the Well Garden, this building stuck out into the  back lane,this place now has the woman’s yurt with a  eucalyptus tree this old place of badgers.

Travelling on a little further upon this  grass track from the hill mound hugging the hedgerow you would arrive at a magik of the west corner ,west village.

Bee swarms sometime seen flying through these airways from here hidden from the main lay of land as she rolls herself westerly turning this corner you would trundle along heading south the land would unfold it’s view again to where you arrived maybe espying deer in the distance up near the Well around 30 -40 in a family at anyone time , somewhere along this grass trackway where the entrance gate is now to the linhay building and polytunnels would be a small wooden farm gate later remade with a wood slats and rope with a sunburst pattern by an inspired guest,here you entered a smaller field of wildflowers  old tractor shed a small lake with a willow everywhere  overgrown with walkway created through , you could in these early times walk all the way around this lake , Tree Mirror.

Over in the west of this small field another  smaller wooden gate propped open with a stick this led to the hidden thatched cottage part new part very old long before Columbus in age.

In the same wildflower meadow on it’s western hedge another gateway  into the field now known as the medicine garden earlier named as rainbow maiden if you look close enough you might still find traces of the willow from which it’s name was woven and placed in the fence , there are many stories around this garden as there are in all areas of this land indeed a story in each person who as stepped into this dreaming place their meeting with landsong with earthsong with heartsong with earth always a story in the mystery unfolding .were you  to walk along the edge of the woods toward  the east village you would have noticed the stone circle  were you to look north you would see it turning as you walked and dreamed, try it sometime ! in these places we meet ourselves we meet others we meet beauty of all life .

Much love Joey Founding Chief of the Embercombe Council