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Bear Cloud Berry will be hosting a workshop at Alton Barnes village hall Saturday 31st July. The cost is £30 for the day. Included in the day will be a film of UFOs filmed in 2003 and traditional ceremonies. Contact Kate Fenn on 01249 814129 for further details.
Our ex-chairman Paul will be giving a talk in October. As some of you know he bought a bakery in Dorset and seems to have settled into the rural life. He will be talking about his experiences since moving down there.
For the last few years a number of the members have run a dowsing session at the villa by invitation of the curator. It all started with an “Alternative Archaeology” day, with other stalls being run by re-enactment bodies, etc., but now we have our own event. Throughout the weekend we give very brief, basic dowsing lessons, build a labyrinth and run the bookstall selling our range of books and dowsing implements.
Last year, for the first time an extra feature was included. This was a dowsing exercise run in a part of the site which is rich in Roman remains just below the grass, so that they are invisible on the surface. Each participant is given a sheet of paper marked with a grid corresponding to a grid marked on the ground, which they could mark their findings on. We have a copy of the geophysical survey on a transparent film which can be laid over each dowser’s completed drawing, to see how accurate they were.
This idea was thought up by Mick and Barbara Withers, and it proved to be very popular as the cynics could see that dowsing actually “works”. Hopefully the project will be run again at this year’s event.
If you come up to Chedworth to see us, don’t forget that it is a National Trust property so there is an admission charge, but it is worth the price to see such a beautiful setting and some interesting ruins – no, not us – the Roman ones!
We also should be having another labyrinth, weather permitting, these also seem to be popular with the general public, and create lots of interest. S.C.
This year’s crop-circle talk was by Andy Thomas, who spoke about his research and findings over the past few years. His talk was accompanied by slides, some of which were of formations that I had not seen before. Andy’s talk was very unbiased and he tried to present a “History of the crop-circle” from the earliest known examples up to the present, without airing his own particular views and theories.
One interesting discovery was that a “News agency”, who claimed that all formations were the work of a particular pair of hoaxers, had connections with M.I.5 This begs a number of questions – the conspiracy theorists could have a field day!
A fascinating talk from an entertaining and gifted speaker. S.C.
Sylvia Plath has left us a poem about swarm prevention in honeybees, as practised in New England circa. 1959.
In the post-war era most entomologists and thinkers had turned their hand-lenses and microscopes away from the realm of domestic insects to focus on pressing global concerns.
They wanted to eradicate famine in the Third world, so a typical thesis of the time would concern the physiology of the locust, or the life cycle of the tsetse fly.
Those with the interests of the bee at heart are therefore grateful to Sylvia Plath for The Bee Meeting, published posthumously as part of "Ariel" in 1963, although the poem contains some assumptions that bee-keepers struggle with to this day, and is marred for some by the poet's bleak thoughts, inescapably recurring..
By beginning the poem with a question, she creates an air of uncertainty:
"Who are these people at the bridge to meet me?"
They are a group of bee-keepers from the village, that's all. They include a fascinating figure called the agent for bees who is, regrettably, tantalisingly, never mentioned by name again. We learn nothing from the poem about his or her part in the agrarian economy.
In fact without further research, which no-one seems willing to undertake, we cannot discern whether there were Bee Agents within the rural Massachusetts infrastructure of the time, or whether Plath has merely made up the name as a way of introducing the theme of bees in the second line of the poem. This tells us as much about the reliability of poets as it does about the bee-keeping community, unfortunately.
The poet is immediately unsure of her role among the bee-keepers, noting that they are wearing protective clothing while she is in a "sleeveless summery dress".
This leads her to enquire - "does nobody love me?" - which is a bit sudden and surely a bit strong. And something of a side issue.
Within moments she is being robed in protective clothing and this leads her to hope that she will now pass unnoticed by the bees.
"They will not smell my fear, my fear, my fear" she says. As though the bees would be interested.
She now establishes that her companions are amateurs of the bee and have other, professional roles in society such as rector, midwife and surgeon.
The poet later imagines that these white-robed figures in their protective masks might be medieval knights or "the butcher, the grocer, the postman," or "someone I know."
What are we to make of this? Does she know these people or doesn't she? Is she uncertain about her own identity? Is this actually to do with her own alienation?
If so, what are we to make of the agent for bees and another figure called the secretary of bees who occurs in the seventh line? May we regard these figures as historically accurate or are they figments of the poet's imagination? Poets are very little help sometimes, and should try to pull themselves together and stay on track.
As the party of bee-keepers moves through the fields towards the bee-hives, Plath notices a crop of beans:
"Is it blood clots the tendrils are dragging up that string?
No, no, it is scarlet flowers that will one day be edible."
Again, somewhat OTT. Elsewhere she indicates that cow parsley is in the hedgerows and not the later-flowering hedge parsley, so that we are guided to think of the period from May to July, which is when most swarms do in fact occur.
When arrived at, the bee hives are in a clearing surrounded by sheltering trees and shrubbery, which is correct bee practice, and Plath observes the season accurately by noting that the hawthorn has finished flowering:
"Is it the hawthorn that smells so sick?
The barren body of hawthorn, etherizing its children."
As the hives are opened, the poet pretends to be very frightened. She wants to run away but
"I could not run without having to run forever."
She gradually realises that the villagers are searching each hive for its queen. The search might prove easier nowadays as, under international law, all queens must carry an identifying mark,
To do this, the queen is isolated on the brood comb. She is momentarily trapped under a queen-restraining cage and a dab of queen paint is applied to her thorax with a match-stick.
According to international regulations the paint must be blue if the year ends in 0 or 5, white in years ending 1 and 6, yellow in 2 and 7, red in 3 and 8, and green in 4 and 9.
This is a useful guide to the average life-span of a queen but, alas, the reader cannot properly divine, solely from textual evidence within the poem, how much working knowledge of bees Sylvia Plath had.
She wonders whether the Queen might be hiding from the light of day, which is a plausible scenario, but then immediately enquires - "is she eating honey?"
This is a remarkably foolish question! How could a queen be eating honey, when she is excluded from the honey-comb by a zinc queen-excluder which has holes only big enough to allow workers through? Plath must surely have realised that a queen is almost twice as bulky as her sisters.
Or is she thinking of the nursery rhyme?
Or is this, in fact, a true reflection of Plath's life and times? Perhaps the queen-excluder had not been perfected in her day. Perhaps American beekeepers in the 1950s allowed the queen to roam about the hive, eating honey as she liked. Perhaps they still do. We may never know.
The villagers in the poem use their knives to cut the new virgin queens out from the brood cells, so that the old queen can reign for another year without competition from within. No rivals will emerge. No swarms will occur.
"The old queen does not show herself. Is she so ungrateful?" wonders Plath before continuing:
"I am exhausted, I am exhausted -"
and asking;
"Whose is that long white box in the grove, what have they accomplished, why am I cold?"
Only one of those questions need detain us. What have they accomplished?
Even now experts are divided about swarm prevention. It interferes with the natural processes of the bee and is regarded in some quarters as a dubious practice.
That Plath should raise this moral dilemma does, perhaps, finally indicate that she had a deep knowledge of bee-keeping, despite her earlier faux-pas about the queen being allowed to eat honey (if it is a faux-pas).
One discovers with a shock that she committed suicide at the age of 31 without ever attaining an age when you realise you can live more happily in the world if you don't take everything too personally.
The heavenly gardens must be full of sturdy bee-keepers who passed on after summers of hard work and sweet rewards.
One would like to think that somehow they greeted Sylvia Plath on her death as one of their number, and took her under their wing.
Rest in Peace.
Grey Wolf
The trip for June was actually at the beginning of July, and was based in the Brecon Beacons. We set off in great trepidation as the weather forecast was not very promising, but in the event it was not too bad – sunny spells mixed with sudden short showers. This meant that the original programme had to be slightly altered so the couple of visits to more exposed remote hill-forts and standing stones were swapped for visits to sacred springs and interesting old churches. The church dedicated to St. Issui, at Patricio, was particularly beautiful and has one of the oldest fonts in Wales. Plenty to dowse there. The associated holy well, about 50 yards down a steep slope from the church was almost certainly a sacred spring in pre-Christian times and is very attractively situated in a small dingle at the side of the lane.
The church itself has a number of ancient wall paintings, including an impressive “Doom”, and an incredibly ornate carved rood loft and screen made of unpainted Irish oak. The carvings include a small Wyvern at each end!
Also a popular find was the enormous Yew tree at St. David’s Church at Defynnog. This is an immense tree by any standards and is close to a second huge specimen, which many authorities believe to be part of the first tree. If this is true this must make the yew truly gigantic and therefore extremely old, maybe 5000 years or so.
Of course, a tree of this size, possessing a nice even “platform” a couple of yards above the ground, acted as a magnet to this mature sensible party of dowsers – up the tree we went! At one time eight of us were up there and what a wonderful feeling it was. After a while we came down so that the others could have a turn!
The church was locked at the time of our visit, so we weren’t able to go in to dowse, but the close proximity to the Yew tree suggests that the site may have been sacred in ancient times.
Not much of the castle at Crickhowell remains standing, just the motte, a tower, and part of a wall, but the top of the motte gave a great view of the surrounding countryside, and was a very tranquil, peaceful place. Apparently the area around Crickhowell used to be known as the “Vale of the yews”, and there are a number of other fine examples still in existence.
Caerleon, the Roman ruins near Newport was visited on the way home. The amphitheatre alone is well worth a look, and there are other Roman remains dotted about throughout the town, also a very good museum.
Thanks to Shaun, who did the lions share of the organisation of the weekend, I think we all enjoyed it. Incidentally, the campsite is highly recommended for anyone who is looking for a nice quiet site in that part of the world. S.C.
There is a dowsing connection with Bradford on Avon, as it was the home of Guy Underwood, and many of the locals told us anecdotes about him. He must have been quite a character if some of the stories were only half true!
At fairly short notice Shaun was approached by the organisers of the annual Bradford on Avon summer celebration of the town, to involve the W.D.S. in the event. This year the theme was the Sun. The day consists of a number of musical events of all kinds, dance, various talks and exhibitions, stalls and workshops. Shaun was asked if the society would do a similar thing to the “Roadshows” we have run at the crop-circle weekends and Chedworth for the last few years. After agreeing in principle, we worked out how this could be “fine-tuned” to fit in with the available space and what the organisers of the event had envisaged. In the end we agreed to do brief ad-hoc lessons, a 45-minute workshop and to accompany a guided walk around some of the oldest parts of the town, doing a little light-hearted archaeological dowsing en route. In addition, we would be able to set up our stall selling books, rods and pendulums to make [hopefully] a few pounds for the society’s coffers. They also wanted to have a labyrinth which people could walk throughout the day, and which would form the centrepiece of the massed choirs finale.
We did what any self-respecting dowsers would do in the circumstances – we cheated by nipping down one evening prior to the big day, and dowsed the historic walk area to check it out, on the basis that we would look pretty silly if there weren’t any dowsable features to find!
Fortunately there were a number of underground streams and a small Lady well, and a tame local historian-cum-archaeologist who was guiding the walk, and who had plans of the area so that the dowsed findings could be substantiated.
The day proved a great success, in fact we were taken aback by the number of participants for the dowsing workshop – at least treble what we had bargained for. Mary and Sib were frantically preparing more dowsing rods under the table, as we did not want to turn anybody away. After the expenses were subtracted, the day ended £91 in profit for the society!
We had a good time although it was quite hard work, and hopefully promoted the W.D.S., as a number of people asked for details of meetings and membership. What made the day particularly rewarding was the number of people who made a point of coming to thank us afterwards. S.C.
Find
your date of birth and read about your attributes. No guarantees of accuracy.
July 05 to July 14 - Fir Tree (the Mysterious) - extraordinary taste, handles stress poorly, loves anything beautiful, can become depressed at times, stubborn, tends to care for those close to them as well as helping strangers, rather modest, hard worker, talented, unselfish, few sexual relationships, many friends, doesn't want foes, very reliable.
July 15 to July 25 -Elm Tree (the Noble-mindedness) - pleasant shape, tasteful clothes, modest demands, tends not to forgive mistakes, cheerful, likes to lead but not to obey, honest and faithful partner, likes making decisions for others, noble-minded, generous, good sense of humor, practical.
July 26 to August 04 - Cypress Tree (the Faithfulness) -strong, muscular, adaptable, takes what life has to give but doesn't necessarily like it, strives to be content, optimistic, wants to be financially independent, wants love and affection, hates loneliness, passionate lover which cannot be satisfied, faithful, quick-tempered at times, can be unruly and careless, loves to gain knowledge, needs to be needed.
Chris Hinton sent in this recipe for a traditional seasonal jelly. I have never tried this one, so I think I might give it a go this year.
For every pound of washed, ripe red berries, add 1 pint of water and simmer for 1 hour. Strain overnight then measure the liquid and add 1lb of sugar and the juice of 1 lemon to each pint. Boil until it sets. If you are fussy, you could top and tail the berries or chop them before they are boiled.
This is a nice rosy colour and is a great source of crataegus to clean out the arteries and lower blood pressure. Put on your toast it the mornings or use with cold meat or cheese. Keeps forever if kept in the fridge.
A Wish-hound Recipe
The recipe above reminded me that Lughnasa is near and I thought I would include a couple of seasonal food related items. At this time of year the festivities celebrate the God as the Corn Lord. The special ritual foods include basil, borage, poppy seeds, and vine leaves. Basil is sometimes known as “the witches’ herb”and has connections with the planet Mars. Borage is associated with warrior gods and was one of the magical herbs of the Celts..It is possible that the name may be derived from the Celtic word – borrach, which means a person of courage. The blood adrenalin levels can be increased by drinking a concoction of borage steeped in wine. This is believed to be what the Crusaders would be given before departing for battles
A strong borage infusion may be drunk to raise psychic awareness and may also be used in ritual baths.
Although it used to be thought that the vine was introduced here by the Romans, in fact the vine was used here back at least as far as the Bronze Age. It is believed that the Danaan people took the vine with them when they invaded Ireland, and the use of wine in magical ceremonies is well known.
Bee Bread Syrup. [one for Grey Wolf!]
Place 3lb. borage flowers in a demi-jon and fill with water. Cork the top and infuse for 8 hours, then pour into a large pan and bring to boiling point. Filter the liquid, squeezing the flowers. Return to the demi-jon, add another 3lb. flowers, and repeat process. To each pint of the infusion add 4lb. sugar and boil into a syrup.
Here is an article from the archives. This is from the December 1995 Newsletter.
Neutrons can pass through great thicknesses of matter so long as it contains no hydrogen which, by retarding them, allows them to react with other nuclei to form radioactive isotopes. Thus the neutrons being produced in the earth react with subterranean water, giving off measurable rays. Lucien Paillard believes this can explain why dowsers can sense underground water streams. But there is another possible explanation. Unstable atomic nuclei can spontaneously disintegrate and in the process release high speed beta particles (electrons), slower speed protons and ultra-high frequency gamma rays. The planet is relentlessly bombarded by cosmic rays from outer space and they disintegrate any atomic nucleus in their paths, creating the same effect as an unstable nucleus. These create the background radioactivity of the earth. When water, such as underground streams, suffers cosmic ray bombardment, the disintegrating nuclei irradiate more gamma rays then soil, or rock strata. So, it is possible that dowsers may be simply detecting the change in a radioactive gradient as they cross over a subterranean stream.
But then, map dowsing kicks both phenomena into touch! There are no ‘rays’ from paper pulp and coloured inks. Has it more to do with ESP? I don’t think so. I’ve taught scores of students how to dowse for underground streams, so are they all exercising ESP. Hardly. Whereas the vast majority of people can dowse, as we all know, the vast majority or people don’t have psychic gifts such as ESP, clairvoyancy, clairaudiency, telepathy, psychometry etc.
A Russian scientist, Dr N Solchevanou, determined that rod reactions were influenced by the weather. During tests in heavy thunderstorms the rod reactions often failed over known and powerful targets. Prospecting tests were also performed in cars and they showed that the car body in no way influenced the dowsing reactions. This proved that the rod reaction energy could not be of an electrical nature as otherwise the car’s steel body would shield the dowser from the earth’s ionisation fields.
The Russian scientists accept dowsing far more than in the West, but have a new name for the art - ‘the biophysical method’ The word ‘dowser’ has been dropped in favour of ‘operator’.
Denis Wheatley