Some people like to take their holidays in a place they know and love. Me too – but let me qualify that statement. For me holidays are about an opportunity to visit somewhere I haven’t been before in a place that I know I love – Britain. You can imagine, though, that having spent over 40 years in these islands finding new places is getting more difficult. M and I therefore agreed that Hampshire and The South Downs should be our target as we had little knowledge of that region.
Before we left I did very little research. I had an idea that I might get to some of the places mentioned in Andrew Collins‘ book “The Black Alchemist“. Something, however, was keeping me away from such places. I think I know why, but that’s another story.
I wasn’t expecting much ‘activity’ as I was supposed to be having time away to rest. However, one day I looked at the map and saw that we were travelling near to a place I’ve always wanted to visit: The Long Man of Wilmington. We had to go!
On arrival we realised that it was pretty busy. If you visit in a motorhome you’ll find that you can’t park at the car park at the top of the village. There’s another place further up the road, so we pulled up there. We were now on Windover Hill – a place teeming with ancient remnants. None more impressive than the giant on the hill, though.
It was a bit of a disappointment to read that the original chalk figure had been filled in by bricks in order to preserve it. The information board also talks about the legend of the battle between the two giants of the two hills in the area.
Connecting to Giants
When I asked the dowsing rods where to sit they led me to a nearby plateau. It afforded a perfectly good view of the giant landscape figure, and soon I was meditating nicely in the afternoon sun, despite the sounds of approaching families and horse-riders passing by. The chorus of birdsong was also lovely, and helped relax me. Protection went up, as usual. I really must teach people these techniques I’ve learned – they’re so useful.
As I projected my thoughts across to the Long Man my attention got swapped into his head, and I could now see through his eyes. For a moment I lingered to appreciate the view from his perspective – a wide view across the valley to distant hills. Then he stood up!
He/we stepped out of the hill, as though through a portal defined by the two rods that he held at either side of him. I know some have considered this as a possible theory about these rods. On an esoteric level I think that’s right, even if I hold more strongly to the idea that he was a Dodman, a surveyor or retainer of the sacred unit of measure.
“The ‘inventor’ of ley lines, Alfred Watkins, thought that in the words “dodman” and the builder’s “hod” there was a survival of an ancient British term for a surveyor. Watkins felt that the name came about because the snail’s two horns resembled a surveyor’s two surveying rods.
Watkins also supported this idea with an etymology from ‘doddering ‘ along and ‘dodge’ (akin, in his mind, to the series of actions a surveyor would carry out in moving his rod back and forth until it accurately lined up with another one as a backsight or foresight) and the Welsh verb ‘dodi’ meaning to lay or place. He thus decided that The Long Man of Wilmington was an image of an ancient surveyor” (source: Wikipedia)
Travels with the Dodman
My attention is still pinned to the hill, but I watch as the giant takes the form of an ethereal Green Man, composed of leaves. He ensures I’m watching, and then begins a journey North-West striding across the landscape. This was noted as a curiosity at the time, but in later weeks I would find out why this direction was so important. What a revelation that is!
The giant Green Man stops at certain points, resting – sitting on hills, touching/holding other points in the landscape – are they power points, I wonder? Is he finding them, or making them?
The scene fades in response to some particularly boisterous young people who jump up onto the chalk platform where I am meditating and begin a shouting match about this and that. Kids, you can’t eat them…..
I am left with a series of questions:-
- Does becoming the giant allow me to see the sacred points in the landscape?
- Was I being shown something important, or just an observer of behaviour?
- Is this relevant now, or was it in the past?
- Where was the giant Green Man heading? It felt like it was near to home…
As I went to leave, questions circling in my mind, I saw a hawk rise and circle around me, then hover. As usual, the hawk is an omen of something significant, and it indicates that I am on the right track.
At home, writing up this post, it reminded me of the task last year about how to establish sacred sites (see: Mitchell’s Fold revelation – the giant striding across the landscape to indicate sacred spots). I wondered at the time whether this was the message, but now I have found another connection, which I will reveal soon.
Chris.
