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Laara
Jun 25, '20
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Chapter Thirteen: Laara



As we filed in procession along the tramline out of the formation I felt lifted up. My spirit felt a sense of relief and lightened. Those memories that possessed me from the past had been expunged and the true I am shone through uncluttered by ego. This caused my soul to sing and become child like and playful. I teased Rosie to test her mettle and as the silence was broken I glimpsed and recognised the power within. The kinaesthetic feel of the wheat as I brushed it reinforced the moment, everybody was silent. Upon leaving the field by the wooded area, where the friendly farmer had set up his table, I acknowledge the red headed boy with whom I had had a delightful conversation with the previous day. He was obviously a son of the farmer and was now manning the table with the collection box.

As we walked the silence was palpable so much so that I felt people were going to miss the wonderful view that was to be had if one just strayed from the well trod field border. With that I indicated such and swung right into the wooded area adjacent to the field. The monumental view of the valley beyond was stunning, the circle makers had chosen an exquisite setting for their triumphal work of art.

One of the girls broke the silence, “What shall we do now?” she uttered in hushed tones. Deliberately as though to make a clean break and to contrast with the almost religious solemnity, I piped up,”We usually go to the pub!” To which everybody laughed. “Where would we like to go for lunch?” I enquired with Southern courtesy.




“The men usually know best on those matters!” A lone female voice responded with a wickedly quick reply.

The Barge was a logical choice but tracking across country would be difficult, so I opted for the safe option that would keep everybody happy, “Red Lion at Avebury!” The stones were calling and it seemed appropriate to finish off the ceremony back with the mother circle. Leaving by the corner of the field I volunteered to duly lift Keira over the wire fence, which proved a little more difficult as she knew exactly what was coming. My mirthful energies were now fully charged with the circle energy and so I engaged Rosie in playful conversation as we tramped through the wooded area.



As I drove back to Avebury Billy Bob and Bearcloud were chatting away so I kept checking in my mirror to see if Helen was following. I smiled as I could see Rosie engaging Helen in conversation. Coming back along the A4 I deliberately took a right and drove very slowly up the avenue to the ring. This was a sacred act of procession honouring the 4000 year old tradition. The girls said later that they really appreciated that as they had never entered the ring by that way before. This is easy to understand as the main signpost points to the Beckhampton roundabout as the point entry. It is almost as though the out of touch authorities want to deliberately suppress the old ways as they did with the lunar calendar.

We all sat at the table outside by the entrance to the Red Lion. Rosie asked for some shade so I found myself quick as a flash searching for a parasol which I duly returned with. Then after a second trip to find the base I erected the apparatus. Rosie was amazed at my efficiency but I felt duty bound for some strange reason to look after her? It was a de ja vu situation that my conscious mind clearly recognised in that instant, for my subconscious was obviously responding to a learnt memory. I have over the years developed a technique that allows me to know when my subconscious is triggered.

We were then joined fortuitously by Laara who sat down opposite David. Again this was more than coincidence and I could feel the connection between them. Something she said previously started to ring a bell and make a connection. She had mentioned that she was a Maxwell in connection with kilts when we were talking about Highland dress. My subconscious mind knew the connection but my conscious mind was still playing catch up.

With that we were joined by a 2 metre tall Dutchman who entered riding an amazing penny farthing like bicycle! “There’s a man who knows how to make an entrance,” I said. Hearing that he spoke Dutch we engaged in conversation and he said down with us. Even better he turned out to be a street performance artist from Amsterdam and was wearing a Confederate looking grey kepi.

The party like atmosphere increased tangibly as we ate. Rosie had chosen the exact same meal as me – prawns without the salad dressing. “Snap!” I said, “past life dolphin for sure!” and smiled. Whilst chatting I discovered that even her daughter had the same name as my daughter – Harriet. This is all too coincidental to be random coincidence I thought.

Bert Janssen joined us and then to complete the coincidence crescendo Janet Ossebard greeted me. I’ve been wishing to see you I said in Dutch, how about that everything is happening at once. I retrieved my new book and folder from the car to show her my discoveries with regard to William Baillie, Holland and Billy the Kid.

The party was cut short as Bearcloud had to pick up his car from the repairers in Calne. He then had to meet another group for another ceremony at 6:30pm.

“No probs, I’ll drive you. It will be an honour.” With that we had to leave in a twinkling of an eye and I so for a second time I was hijacked from Rosie’s company. The sense of loss was quite palpable but again I had no idea why. But hey – I just had to go with the flow.

My gas tank was on red, but I figured I had just enough to get Bearcloud to his car. Laara had also decided to accompany us, which was a pleasant surprise. My own thoughts and feelings for Rosie put aside I was quite pleased at this turn of events. There is a definite bond between the two of them but what could it be? What was the elusive connection that glued them together?

Our parting with Bearcloud was very emotional. “Little white brother thanks big red brother,” I said as I hugged him at length. I remembered giving him my Rebel Spirit book back in Glastonbury 2001 and the same emotion I felt that day as I hugged him then. It all flooded back and with that I drove away and sadness enveloped my heart.

“What a magical day.” I said to David “Wow Dad it’s sure done my head in!” “All meant to be Billy Bob.” I replied.

Needless to say I made it to the Texaco garage gas station in Devizes. I smiled as I consciously acknowledged its bright red 5 pointed star. Now it was time to pack up my tent, which was overdue. The spontaneity of events had taken over with a life of their own in true cosmic surfer style – oh yeah!

“Where to Laara?” I asked.

“I’d like to see where you and David camp.” She asked. “No probs!” I replied and was quite happy to oblige.



I had nicknamed Laara Cowgirl due to her boots and cowboy style hat, there was definitely a deep bond between Laara and David, but I still felt it was an unusual request for a lady to make. Normally ladies do not do camping.

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” I asked as I offered her my chair. “That would be lovely.” She replied sweetly.

Laara insisted on sharing the chores despite my protests that she was a guest. I spotted her and Billy strolling together to do the washing up. They really seem totally bonded together by some hidden connection but what it was eluded my conscious mind at present. Her cowboy hat was dangling by its cords on her back. An impressive lady I thought, very egalitarian, one of the boys in fact.

My car loaded with camp gear I head for Terje’s talk at the silent circle. David offered to drive Laara as he would need his car to return. Pulling up at the silent circle the venue was packed and a sunny party atmosphere was in full swing. I bumped into Geoff Stray and gave him a big hug. In side I sat next to Ragnhilde as Terje presented Garry King’s video that he had produced. As a bonus he showed Foeke’s video footage from the Marten formation which was equally stunning in its importance.

What an excellent way to end this adventure! I took my leave at the interval as I had one last call to make and with that after saying adieu to David I headed for the Barge Inn. I wanted desperately to say goodbye to Rosie and the other two witches of Eastwick, Helen and Pattie. I knew they were camping at the Barge and eventually I found them.

“Hi I’ve just come to say goodbye.” I said respectfully.

“That’s a nice surprise.” Pattie replied

“Well I can’t leave without paying my respects to the Witches of Eastwick!” “Oh you’ve just missed Rosie, she’s just gone.” Helen said.

“Never mind, it’s not meant to be.”

Helen offered me Rosie’s seat and I sat chatting with her as the blood red Moon arose slowly into the sky.

“We’ve decided to call ourselves the Witches of Eastfield!” Helen said with a smile of approval.

“And very appropriate too!” I said and laughed out loud.

After drinking and chatting about the days events and the Native American memories it stirred in us I took my leave. It was midnight and time to drive home by the light of the full Moon.

Would I be able to solve the riddle of the link between David and Laara and would I ever see Rosie again? Those were the two questions upper most in my mind as I shifted space in my SAAB.




Xxxxx

Jun 25, '20
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