Sometimes it’s only when you finish writing a post that you realise what it was all about, and can summarise it. Well, as an introduction to this post I want to warn you that if you’re feeling anything but extremely up-beat at the moment then you might want to skip to another cheery post, like “The Hanging Tree“. Maybe not. We do have cheery posts, but this one is different. Different for an interesting reason. Even while M and I were having the experience I am about to relate, we knew we were being dampened by some force when we visited Callanish II stone circle. We had just come from Callanish III, which is only a minute’s drive away. I, in particular, was quite buoyant at my findings at Cal II, and was eager to find more stuff. Then we arrived.
Callanish II is also known as ‘Cnoc Ceann a’Gharraidh‘ in the original Gaelic, which translates as “Hillock at the end of the wall”. Sounds better in the Gaelic, I think. It is, however, this kind of uninspiring name that seems befitting to a site that on this day was immensely uninspiring. Maybe it needs a sunny day, or perhaps a flock of eagles to fly over, or something. Of all the sites we visited during our early Spring weekend to Lewis, this site had to be one that left us with a feeling of “we shouldn’t have bothered”. Which is quite remarkable, because the circle has some big impressive stones remaining. It should engender a feeling of wonder and the idea that at any moment something magical might happen. But it didn’t for me.
It is neatly sandwiched between the main Callanish I and Callanish III sites, but lacks their splendour or majesty. Saying that – here’s a link to a very moody shot of the whole circle: http://www.ancient-scotland.co.uk/picframe.php?a=284
As an example, we parked at the end of the small lane leading up to the circle. No-one else was there, except a family of spotted pigs that trotted past us, hurrying to reach their shelter in the abandoned house alongside the field next to the circle. The pigs had, as you would expect, lovingly churned up the ground so that it was lumpy and awkward to cross their field.
We entered the stone circle site to be confronted by the five remaining tall stones. I dowsed around the edge to find out how many there had originally been and counted … well, I don’t know how many. I knew at the time but now my GPS trail is impossible to follow for some reason, I remember I was having all sorts of fun trying to press the buttons through my gloves. That was the kind of lethargic, frustrating and debilitating feeling I was getting from the site.
We’ve come across this quality of an area that is imbued with negative energy. It causes arguments, saps your desire to do anything purposeful, thwarts your attempts to overcome it, and then makes you not able to even form the idea that there might be some unhelpful energy forms there. You just prefer to leave everything alone. You can’t rouse yourself to make any positive change. It’s only later, when you’re away from its grip, that you begin to wonder why you let that happen? Why didn’t you think to do something about it? Cunning stuff, this black energy! It has innate qualities that promote its own survival, and keeps it from being detected and eradicated on the spot. We find that dis-embodied sentient energies have similar qualities.
What I did manage to achieve there was to dowse for missing stones, I think I found at least three, possibly as many as five, places where stones had been removed. Again – why can’t I tell you exactly how many I found? Why didn’t I record it in my notebook that was in my pocket? Why is it the only circle whose GPS trace data is so unclear that I couldn’t discern anything useful from it? No reason, of course. Just coincidence, eh?
A couple of former stone placements were already marked by someone who had put a small stone on those places (the obvious ones). I found the less immediately obvious ones with my trusty copper L-rods and where possible I marked it with a stone that was from outside the circle. In the picture below I have just nudged a stone back into place that had been shifted. Maybe the pigs have been doing quietly marking them? 😉
Whatever the purpose of this stone circle was it was now suffering from some form of malaise. Both M and I could feel it as we walked around. Neither of us were happy to be there and we both wanted me to get the dowsing 0ver and done with as soon as possible. I had one more thing I wanted to look at, which was the inner ring of stones that marked the cairn that had once been built within the circle. Within that – at the very centre of the circle (well, off-centre, but central) was a small ring of small stones and a central white stone. I dowsed for it having had human habitation within it, but then the rods fell to my side again and I aimlessly wandered about again.
I summoned up some half-hearted enthusiasm. What if I located a white stream power centre? I walked around asking to be taken to one, if one existed. I was taken to a flat female stone that was near to the parade of three tall standing stones that formed the remainder of what must have been a once-impressive circle. This female flat stone also dowsed for male energies, and for white stream energy. Would this be beneficial to me? I asked. “Of course”, came the dowsing response. I kept that in mind and put the rods down again. Look at that white stone in the centre, I said to myself. Hmmm. Hmmm, what?
You could get a good view of Callanish I on the next hill over the Loch. And if you crane your head between the stones you can make out Callanish III on the ridge a few hundred feet on the other side. How strange to build three circles so close to each other! What purpose did that serve, I wondered? I mused. Rain fell. Winds blew. Pigs grunted.
I shook my head again vigorously to recover. It bought me a few seconds of time to step onto the female transformer stone, where I drew some energy into myself – enough to protect myself from the seeping negative feeling. Immediately I felt warmer and more relaxed. Unfortunately M didn’t, so I picked the rods up and formulated more questions in my energy bubble.
This site was full of male pointed standing stones. There were one or two female stones – only one, if I remember rightly, was for a still standing stone. Again that female transformer stone was flat. I wanted to dowse for the energy patterns coming in and out of it, like usual, but didn’t.
One last thing to try. I picked up my staff and walked around the circle three times clockwise to try to invigorate the energies in the nemeton. This usually had a positive effect. By the third time around I could feel the energies flowing with and around me. Well, at least I had stirred things up a bit!
We went to sit back in the car as the rain struck up another orchestra of pings, splats and drips. The rain started heavily now, lashed sideways by the increasing winds coming in from all corners. Then to our surprise a cyclist arrived. He walked to stones, once around, got out and inspected a little paper bundle, and then ten seconds later rode off again. Tick-in-the-Box, I said. But a bloody hardy one!
Having felt as though we had recovered our senses a little, and re-kindled our enthusiasm, we drove off towards the other interesting sites along the north-west coast of Lewis.
Gwas
Following the main road away from Cal II quickly.
