- June 20 to July 7, 2007

TThis pencil drawing came from my imagination as I spent a week in solitude in Charnwood Forest It represents the possibility of harmony and respect between Pagan and Christian when cradled - and perhaps humbled - by the greater mystery of bedrock and tree.

From early childhood I have known God because of the living vitality found in the world all around me. From my dog to the compost heap, from the willow, peach and maple trees in the backyard to the sky above, to the falling snowflakes and the power of hurricanes, I have experienced kinship with that which is greater than myself and felt the presence of Mystery.

Other kids told me that American Indians used to live in the Pennsylvania farmland near my home. We went searching for them in a cave at the far end of the wood and I found an arrowhead there! I longed to know who had made it, where they had lived, why I couldn't find them now. I felt they held a key to a creaking old door deep inside me.

Moving west in 1980, I quickly met the Native Americans willing to share their traditions with white folk. In their sweat lodge, I immediately felt at home, yet knew they saw me as a stranger there. I could not wrap my tongue around their prayer songs nor did they really want to listen to mine. Intuitively, I knew we Europeans must know all these sacred earth honoring ways, too, but I had no proof.

Now, thanks to the burgeoning interest in all things Celtic, in pre-Christian European history, I'm finding the people, the books, the practices of my own belly button lineage. For examples of these sources, check the Druid Network. To help me find my way home, to awaken my cellular memories, I spent two months in England in the winter of 2005. I intend to go back for an extended time - to write, to paint, to explore, to experience.

Now you have an opportunity to travel with me and Jim Lawer the originator of the WakeWater Project!

A WakeWater Pilgrimage to England and Cornwall is planned

June 20 - July 7, 2007.
Jim Lawer and Deborah Milton, co-creators of WakeWater, invite you to explore ancient sacred sites and contemporary druidic practice in England and Cornwall.

Approximate dates - arrive in England on June 20 or 21 and leave around July 7. Depending on the length of time you can stay, you might want to participate in the Druidic camp later in July...four days of immersion.
Lodging - We'll stay mostly in B&B's or hostels. Make as many of our meals at home as possible.
Fee - cost of the trip is still being determined but will probably be in the $1000-1200 range,
not including airfare.
Size of group - we anticipate traveling with a small group - maximum ten - so let us know quickly if you are interested. We already have five committed travelers.

We anticipate participating in:

a druidic sweat guided by Mark Graham who has researched the ancient English sweat tradition for the last twenty years,

a solstice celebration with the Charnwood Grove, a community of friends and longtime Druids, and probably attending also the more public ritual at Stonehenge,

three days learning from Emma (Bobcat) Restall-Orr, head of the Druid Order in England, teacher and author ( Living Druidry, Principles of Druidry, Spirits of the Sacred Grove, etc )

a meeting with Professor Brian Bates, principal researcher of Anglo-Saxon life, rites and ritual and a primary force behind the re-emergence of Wyrd wisdom in contemporary healing and psychological arts. He's written Way of the Wyrd and Wisdom of Wyrd among many other books. If we're lucky, he may accompany us to meet a 2000 year old yew tree in the yard of a pagan/christian chapel.

trips to stone circles, such as Avebury, the Roll Right Stones and Staunton Drew and then
on to Cornwall, where the old religion was never successfully stamped out and where the circles, wells, natural chapels and standing stones continue to be places of ritual practice.

"Sing London" with Chloe Goodchild and the Naked Voice organization. We can attend a concert and/or a day long workshop on Saturday the 7th of July.

Contact Deborah@Athanorarts.comto let us know you're interested.

This figure - known as the Uffington White Horse - is thought to be the oldest hill figure in Britain. Some think it's a dragon, others a stylized horse perhaps related to the Goddess Epona. Carved in white chalk bedrock, probably as long ago as 1000 BC, its 374-length makes the complete figure very hard to see from close by, but magnificent as seen from across the valley.

Though it's a gray damp raw day, I try riding a bike for the first time in twenty years. It's true - you never forget how once you learn.

It's a bit of a push and I worry a little about stashing the bike in the bushes since it's not mine, but I know I can't pedal up the huge hill leading to the White Horse. I hike, probably four to five miles, uphill and down and I can't find the white horse anywhere.

I'm stunned by all the people. I can't get used to the fact that every sacred site is heavily populated but this windy hill rising up from flat valleys still thrills me. People, especially young men, are everywhere at the brow of the hill flying kites and radio controlled large model airplanes. It's quite thrilling really as the planes twirl and spiral riding the air currents. Exuberance personified.

I can't find the white horse though - puzzling. I do find Uffington Castle - well not the castle but the topography which used to hold it - a commanding perch where the people must have had an incredible view, even without turrets, and perhaps a feeling of security as long as they didn't see an advancing army on the horizon line. A huge banked, circular earthwork, now enjoyed by wandering walkers, crows and black faced sheep, once enclosed a castle whose footprint may have been as large as - well maybe as large as a football field today - maybe two fields.

I found the Ridgeway on the far side of the castle bank. The road so named because it traverses many miles of country following the high ground not the low. A chalk road carved out before the time of Christ. I can hear the ancestors all along it, even feel the rumbling as they drag equipment, quite fascinating and remarkable for being a pretty plain, undulating, but straight road. . .I decide to follow it for a mile or two in hopes of reaching Wayland Smithy. . .

. . .Walking back to the hill, I realize I'm feeling good, afternoon is still young, and I decide to stick with the task of finding that white horse. Turns out it was right under my nose, or above my head, the whole time, depending on what point I am in my journey. I'd felt the pull of a path to my left on my initial walk up the hill, but there was no sign indicating a destination, so I continued puffing up the main road. Now, standing on the protruding brow of the hill watching the kite flyers up close, I finally ask someone for directions to the white horse. "Duh". . .he says, but not unkindly, "You're standing on top of it!"

One of the special features of Britain's 5000-year-old largest stone circle is a one and a half-mile long avenue of paired stones linking the main circle with the Sanctuary. The pairs of stones may represent male and female and felt highly energetic to me.

Quite a day, quite a day, well a bit of a slog actually. Another six mile day at least. Hiking past Silbury Hill, I remember our pre-dawn escapade six years prior, when Cynthia was still alive. Tears spring forth, feeling warranted, feeling good.

I hike on past Silbury to the West Kennett Long Barrow and there wonder of wonders I have a few minutes alone inside that remarkable place. I sing. Deep, deep resonant sounds come forth and I feel the vibration tunneling into my being.

Just about the moment I stop another person enters. I love how that happens in these popular places.

I attempt to find Swallowhead Spring but don't succeed and decide to hike on the edge of the A4 - along with the mad rush of traffic. There is no footpath and I note over and over again what a remarkable thing walking is. I look ahead and think there is no way I'll make my next goal, there is no where even to put my foot on the narrow, hummocky shoulder, but footstep by unerring footstep, I keep moving forward. Each footfall automatically leads to the next and walking over tussocks simply contributes to my flexibility and balance. I'm really quite in awe of walking.

Eventually I reach the Sanctuary - where the Ridgeway begins or ends depending...The Sanctuary blows me away. I can see Silbury, West Kennett, and at least a dozen other mounds from this spot. I'm stunned to learn that a farmer knocked this complex of concentric circles down in the 1700's to plow a field. . .

I decide to walk the Ridgeway and am charmed by knowing I walked it in Uffington - the fullness of the whole experience somehow affirms my living presence. I walk and walk and unfortunately, or maybe not, come to a by-way that looks like a shortcut. I realize too many footsteps later that I have gotten off the Ridgeway much sooner than I wanted to, but now I'm committed to a new path. I begin to see West Kennett Avenue far below me. The pairs of stones leading in a serpentine line for nearly two miles connecting the Sanctuary where I have just been and the great stone circles where I'm headed.

But before I get there, I have to traverse many plowed and planted fields on a rough track at the edge. I come to a choice point. To the right feels ominous and dark. Being on my own and in the moment, I rely on these instincts. Whether right or wrong, they are all that I have. I turn impulsively left when I see an arrow for another by-way. Luckily it takes me to the avenue of stones itself. I am thrilled, at home, energized by walking between them. . .and I miss my bus by two minutes. . .watching it drive by and not quite close enough to flag it down. . .