Communing with the ancients

As I was dressing this morning, I looked up to see a small sparrow perched on a branch of the climbing rose only a few inches from the window of the spare bedroom of Patrick's thatched cottage. It was sheltering from the drizzle, protected by the overhanging thatch, which I think it nests within. A lovely start to the day.

When we finished breakfast of strong coffee and had both slowly acclimatised to the new day after a rather late evening, we decided to head out to explore the wonderful local Dorset landscape. Patrick often takes me on jaunts of discovery, and he packed a couple of sandwiches into his duffle bag for our refreshment. We drove about ten miles up to the higher ground to see if he could find the site of some standing stones he had visited many years ago, knowing my predilection for ancient sites. Last time I visited him he took me to see the Hellstone above Abbotsbury.

He had a vague recollection of a holloway and a wooden farm gate which lead down to the site of the stones. After a short investigation the gate appeared and within a few hundred yards we reached a more modern gate into a patch of fenced farmland at the bottom of a dry valley, protected from the elements, particularly the wind blowing off the sea, just a few miles away.

We wandered about, while Pat humoured my photographic endeavours, and found a wonderful collection of many stones lying in varying positions in the enclosure, which has no signposts at all. It was a very beautiful spot, with a definite air of mystery. We had no idea of the origins of what we had found, but kept finding various big and small stones lying dotted about, some close together, others dotted about apparently randomly, though I am sure that once upon a time they had been located purposefully.

After exploring for awhile, we sat upon the recumbent stone on which this sheep was standing, and ate our sandwiches and mulled over what we thought about the site. Patrick noticed a tree growing up beside a group of smaller stones, and remarked that he thought this was a fairy tree. I defer to his greater knowledge of such matters, particularly since he is the author of 'Daimonic reality - a field guide to the Otherworld', amongst several other erudite and fascinating tomes.

This was only the start of our journey, as we then proceeded to take what he promised was the scenic route home, although to me any route thereabouts is scenic. Our destination was Toller Fratrum, a small hamlet in another nearby valley, formerly a Knights Hospitaller settlement. The 16th century farmhouse and associated buildings are all Grade 2 Listed, but that hasn't preserved them entirely. The extremely old thatched barn beside the farmhouse is apparently the former site of the refectory of the Knights, with massive cruck frame timbers no longer supporting the thatched roof. Patrick said the main stone walls on one side had collapsed in the last few months bringing down all the roof frame and exposing it to the elements. It has been covered by a flimsy covering of scaffold and plastic sheetings, but if only it had been looked after properly it would have survived into the future. Now its repair is going to cost a lot of money and judging by state of the rest of the buildings that is not likely.

We then walked to the outside of the barn where the church is located only about fifteen yards from the barn. This church was restored in the 19th century but has retained many old features including a magnificent Saxon font with astonishing carved human and animal representations. I nearly blipped a picture of the font but the dark lighting and the lack of convenient access to it has prevented that. Do visit if you are ever nearby. I will be back.

If you are interested, Patrick runs occasional courses with Jules Cashford, entitled The Mythic Imagination. Their next course is in October 2012.