My Pin Collection – 2


Post 2. I’m not sure how I missed that I have two sets of doubles. Oh well, they’re pretty.

L-R: From my Fantasy Collection: Shield with chains. (This was my first pin that I remember getting for myself. I wore it all the time. I was a medieval history buff and a medieval re-enactor, so it was apropos.) Fancy feather with silver locket, Crescent Man in the Moon, Unicorn, Lion on a Shield, Carousel Lion (I collected many lions when I was in a medieval group. Our town was called Lions End), Castle on a mountain with a crystal ball. (c)2017

Clockwise: Art deco pin with purple crystal, Art deco pin, Gold pin with red and white crystals, Silver bow, Gold oval with filigree details, Gold Knot with “pearl”. (c)2017

L-R, top to bottom: Silver twist with pink “pearl”, Gold braid with clear crystal, Kilt pin, Art deco with purple crystal (again), French horn with “pearls”, Gold leaf with Oval Rose picture, Oval gold flowers, Art deco – silver with white stone, Silver bow (again). (c)2017

50-34 – Stonehenge


I’ve been once. Very nearly thirty years ago. What is most amazing apart from the stones themselves and the sacred space itself is how much of the feelings remain with me after so many years away.

I’ve always had a thing for rocks. Pebbles and larger, colored and polished, rough, formations that can’t be moved no matter how hard you try. When I returnd to Wales in 2009, I touched the stones of castles and rock formations, and almost none gave me the feeling that I experienced at Stonehenge.

I was lucky when I went. You could still touch the stones and move in and out, around them and about. There were some ropes to keep you from sitting on the flat ones, and of course, they didn’t want you climbing, but just being there, surrounded by the cool plains air, the cold to the touch stones, gigantic, and not just tall but broad and sturdy.

The sun was setting. We were one of the last buses allowed in for the day, and I was very thankful. This was our only chance to visit, and this was one of the important places that I wanted to see. To touch. To feel. To be.

If you’ve never been to a place of great spirits, you can’t imagine the electricity coming off of not only the stones, but the ground below them. I’ve been to Gettysburg, and I imagine Standing Rock in North Dakota has the residual of all that has gone before it, but Stonehenge….Stonehenge is in an entirely other category; another world.

You almost don’t notice the other tourists. I was spellbound, moving from one monolith to the next, placing my hand, palm flat against the cold, rough edifice. I didn’t have to imagine what had gone before in this place; I could feel it: the heartbeat. The pulse, the pulsating of life, of forever.I never wanted to leave.

The sky dimmed and then darkened, the powerful stones becoming shadowed and dark against the darkening sky. I can remember leaving, sitting in the bus, looking out the window at the stones growing smaller as we ambled slowly away, getting further and further distant, and yet, they are still with me; within me.

There is magic there, so much that it is able to let a little bit leave with its visitors and keep them in touch with the pulse of the land, the stones, the past, and the future, and of course, whatever else we believe is out there, be it Druidic or Diety, Nature or Nurture, Spirit and Faith.

It’s taken thirty years to get this much down, and I still feel more wanting to bubble up, but not ready – I’m not ready to let it all out. I want to be selfish and keep it inside for me alone. It can’t be shared in a way that anyone else can feel what I feel. It’s too much to share so I’ve shared what I could.

(c)1987, (c)2016

(c)1987 (c)2016

Amazing. (c)1987, (c)2016

Stonehenge. (c)1987, (c)2016

Sunset at Stonehenge. (c)1987, (c)2016