This is the first of a three-part post on my Beltane exploits this year. As usual I went out into the countryside accompanied by my amiable sidekick Kal, and I had the intention of discovering my next quest for this part of the year – my Beltane Directive, if you will.
Our first stop was Llangollen – a small town burgeoned by tourism in the summer months, and swelled by bikers for the rest of the year. In Llangollen’s dim and distant past it was an historic place and remains the home to some homely remains. Therefore, our first stop was the hard trek that is the steep sloping sides of Dinas Bran – a mound and ruined castle that dominates the approaches to the town from the east side.
The morning was sunny but stirring with the swelling winds of Spring. We walked up the spiral approach path to the castle in good humour and soon we were treated to the 360° views that we now had become accustomed to, but which nevertheless inspired a reverential awe whilst recapturing one’s breath at the summit.
As we crested the summit we realised the full impact of the strength of the winds that morning as every part of our clothing was pulled in varying directions at once by the ravenous air elementals. As I sought shelter from the strong cross-winds in order to light some incense I noticed that we were the only ones braving the site at that time of the morning, Lucky us! The incense was lit but soon blew out, so I left it spluttering in the corner of the site and went to sit on my favourite spot – a place that I associated with Bran the Blessed, or whatever was currently representing itself as the spirit of Bran. In the many encounters I had had previously at this place Bran had always spoken to me in Welsh, which has caused me to have to learn a little bit of that language along my journeys. Note – no dowsing rods needed at this stage to find the best place to be – all intuition so far.
I did a mental meditation, opening a spiral of anti-clockwise energy that spiralled into the ground and which acted as a “sink hole” into which I poured all of my worldly energies, divesting myself of their clammy touch. I imagined the energy being drawn out of me, sinking into the site, then being dispersed far and wide across the landscape, and dissipating into harmless ions of worldly energy that could then be re-distributed as Nature saw fit. Next, I went through a process of opening my chakras using my ascending chant to feel each one open in turn, whilst simultaneously imagining their spinning vortices gathering speed. Now I felt ready to connect to Bran.
The Hawk of May
I sat on my power centre – the portal through which I can commune with this ancient spirit – and I faced the raging wind head on seeking solace in its ability to drown out all other sound. In the deepest part of the meditation I heard a single word – “Gwalchmai“.
My studies of Welsh mythology and Arthurian legend meant that I knew this reference. Gwalchmai means The Hawk of May and is the title given to the Arthurian knight Gawain. I was being given a clue to something, something that related to the May Day quest, I felt sure.
As we were about to leave Kal had to go back to do something, and I stood on the edge of the castle, looking out at the landscape below, admiring the height and views from this wonderful mound. At that moment a pair of hawks came rising from the base of the hill to exactly the height level with my eyes. The pair circled around only yards away from where I stood amazed and still, frozen in wonder. They occasionally cried to each other – were they guiding each other to their prey? This event seemed symbolic of my own quest that day. Bran was guiding me through the image of the Hawk of May to reach the target that I intended to home in on too. I sent a connection to them, extending threads from my sacral chakra towards the birds, and I felt as though I could see through their eyes for a moment…the aerial view of the land below, it’s patchwork patterning of villages and fields, the V-shape of the distant valley on the skyline….then I was back in my body again, grounded but exhilarated.
This encounter set the tone for the rest of the day which proved to be equally exciting, as I will explain in the related posts to come. When I got home I did some research on Gwalchmai, and here is what I found:
“Gawain, or Gwalchmai (Hawk of May) was chief among Arthur’s nephews and eldest of the “Orkney Clan”. Gawain is usually said to be the son of Arthur’s half-sister Morgause (or Anna). When Uther became king, he marries Morgause off to Lot of Orkney and Gawain was their eldest offspring. Tradition has it that Gawain was educated at Rome in the papal household and later became a leading member of the Round Table. Reminiscent of the ancient Celtic sun-heroes, his strength used to increase till noon and decline afterwards. As with Kay, later legend condemned him as a womanizer and cheater, but he was full of courage and, at his best, a model of chivalry. ” (source: Celtic Twilight)
Here I was, at one with the Hawks of May at Beltane, and ready to see what else I could learn from the Llangernyw Yew tree about what my next quest would be. Already I felt the move into the next part of the year, the Wheel of the Year turning to touch the land again, and me turning with it.
Gwas.
