Clattering and Cleansing! A wild edged uprising at Cattistock

Just over a week ago I visited Cattistock well and churchyard. The music of a 'clattering' of Jackdaws accompanied my feet dunking in the icy Spring water of the well chamber.

Awake, awake!

Not a time to dwell or procrastinate!

Hear our alarm call

clattering chatterings.

Rise up, rise up,

sing, dance, clap,

circle around, this

wild hallowed ground! (H. Campbell)

In this additional post for the week, I share a vibrant video of Jackdaws circling and chattering on the wing, poetry and a guided meditation to a Jackdaw sanctuary and spirit guide.

Cleansing time:

A quick foot dip in the well I thought, that will help wake me up, lift my spirits.

The Well chamber and spring water at Cattistock, in St Peter and St Paul’s Churchyard.

Tiredness and midsummer heat led me to the well, to the song of ‘her’ memory. To the source of running wild waters, Ocean’s daughters.

I placed my feet within the well chamber at Cattistock, which was full of dead bits of tree and plant material deposited by wind and bird. Slippery steep steps lead down to the chamber, so not that easy to gain access, but a case of ‘needing’ to just do it. You know?

The din of ‘the birds’ brought me to my senses suddenly! I was lifted out of my lethargy by the ‘clattering’ of Jackdaws that filled the large tall tree just up the slope from me and the well.

Delightful Jackdaw. Photo by Rob Pumphrey on Unsplash.

Awakening:

The collective noun for Jackdaw is a ‘clattering’ or ‘train’. The Welsh name is Jac-y-do. I knew I needed to connect with them more attentively, so after I removed my feet from the cluttered water, I walked up the sloping path to the centre of the churchyard, which was full of wildness, uncut grass, long stemmed meadow flowers and a sense of letting Nature BE. Such joy!

Here I could see the large clatter of Jackdaws perching on dead branches of a tall, skeletal Ash tree. Chattering and clattering away. Suddenly they all were flight bound and loudly swooping around in a circle over the spire of the church and my head back to the tree again. Creating a sacred circle. Raising energy. The clouds collected as if to deliver thunder claps or rain. Or to join the Corvids’ collective chorus?!

I hastily recorded the black winged magicians as they created their sacred circle around me, see below.