In previous years, we have set up a tent along with everyone else, but D really isn’t well enough to camp due to his various health problems, so we found a nice B&B somewhere called Bewerley Hall Farm.
I packed the car when I got back from work on Friday, collected Douglas from work at 7pm, and after a quick stop back at home, we were on our way. We arrived, pretty tired, at our B&B at about 9pm. Douglas would have loved to drive over to Camp, but the call of our bed was louder!
After a good breakfast (Douglas had more or less full cooked, I had some grilled tomatoes and lots of toast, as I don’t like the other bits) we set off to camp, and arrived at about 9am. It was lovely to see lots of familiar faces again, and we soon settled into our camping chairs under the gazebo known as “Fort Dagda”
Oakleaf camp benefits from the protection of the Pagan security group known as The Dagda. Douglas and I are good friends with many of this group – and I know that if Douglas was in better health, he would become a working member of the group, going round many Pagan festivals, helping to check tickets, do lost property and generally keep order in a friendly but firm manner. As things stand, I think we happily count ourselves as “friends of Dagda” as we are accepted into their group (the Gazebo known as Fort Dagda) and generally “hang out” with them.
At midday on Saturday, the Dagda, and members of Oakleaf circle held a ceremony – a Stilling - to mark the passing of one of their dear friends, a bloke called Bernie, who was also known affectionately as “Wrinkly Dagda”.
The Dagda, friends and family processed to the Stone Circle, Aussie (of Dagda) carried Bernies ashes at the front, the urn being wrapped in Bernie’s Shiny (fluorescent security jacket). Along the way through camp, people turned, stood and paid their last respects to this much loved member of their community.
Once at the stone circle, the urn was placed on a makeshift altar in the middle, and for several long minutes of silence, the only noises to be heard were carried to us on the wind, from the sheep in nearby fields, and other members of the camp, drumming and generally having fun just a field away.
Pete, Bernie’s son stepped into the centre of the circle, and very slowly turned round to look, one by one, at everyone present, silently acknowledging their presence before scattering some of his fathers ashes into the waiting wind.
After an opportunity that some took to say a few words in remembrance, then Damh the Bard (a Druid who is also a bard, much loved by many on the camp, who was booked to sing for us that evening) stepped forward and slowly started clapping. I was a little confused until he started singing, and slowly everyone else joined in with the steady clap, keeping time as he walked round the circle and sang a beautiful song which befitted the solomn occasion.
A large flagon of mead was then passed round for everyone to take a sip and toast the passing of their friend. The mood in the circle lifted as the booze went round, which was fitting, because Bernie, like most of the Dagda, loved his drink.
After a fair bit of chatting and some lovely hugs, we filed out of the circle, and left the family to plant an oak tree, with Bernies ashes at its roots.
***
Later, after Dahm the Bard (aka D the B) had sung, (as ever, his songs were beautiful and moving.. hes fab!!) people played drums, sang and danced round the camp fire, but I was pretty tired so headed back up to Fort Dagda to meet up with Douglas.
I took a few photos of people playing with fire Poi and fire twirling sticks. We dont take photos on camp as a general rule, because some people are not "out" as Pagans in their normal lives, but the ones I show you now are ok, as you cant see any faces :-) .. other than D the B anyway!!
Damh the Bard in the marquee
6 comments:
It makes me sad that here we are in 2009 and we still can't express our spirituality without fear of reprisal.
Maybe sad isn't the right word. I think "pissed off" might be better.
In our pagan group (which calls itself an "Irish reenactment" group) we also had a Stilling, and they burned a huge wooden chest into which people had put offerings and remembrances of the departed.
Unfortunately, no one was aware that putting a corked bottle of mead into the chest would cause an explosion - but as it was surrounded by the wooden chest, all was well. Just a bit more of an exciting ceremony than we'd planned on!
8-)
Sounds like a really good camp, and as I know the site from the Northern Green Gathering, I could picture the stone circle set apart from the camping fields, and remember the sounds of the countryside.
A good post, thank you.
Hi Anna,
Have only just found your blog. I would like to thank you for your report on Bernie's stilling, a most moving account.
Cat.
Cat, many thanks for your comment. It was a very moving ceremony indeed!
Are you part of Oakleaf Circle? Please drop me a line to say who you are, if you would.. either on here or by email.. mrshappyanna at gmail.com
Thanks.
Thank you for that write up. Bernie was a very dear lifelong friend and sadly I wasn't able to attend to this last farewell. Blessings xx Suzy
sooze... Im glad you liked my write up. Were you there this year? My hubby and I spent most of our time with the Dagda.. Bernies "shiny" was hanging in its place of honour at Fort Dagda, and Im pretty sure a few bottles of mead were sipped in his honour.
If you care to, please drop me a line at mrshappyanna@gmail.com to let me know who you are :-)
Blessings, Anna xxx
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