as we drove towards Marazion
St. Michael's Mount loomed in the horizon.
[you can catch a ferry across to the Mount or walk when the tide is out.. but of course, no ferries in sight..]well, here I am. Another pilgrimage achieved. Heard so much about it.. how the Michael and Mary ley line runs through here.. we stopped so I could take some photos and I took a walk on the beach.
as I walked along the beach, looking for stones.. I was accompanied by two black crows.. who kept kind of jumping into the water then back.. quite comical to watch.
It was cold, chilly cold. wind blowing.. just because I am here, I am not prepared to go walking on a cold chilly beach for very long.. don't want to catch a 'death of cold'.. as my nan would say..
so we walked around the village for a short time.. the drizzle had started.. and I felt emotions and sadness and overwhelm within..
I stopped and journalled..
"I don't feel a thing here.. why? Everyone has told me about how this ley line runs through here and how the energy is strong. but no, I cannot feel it."
and I burst into tears.. [I am sure Joe is beginning to wonder about my mental state!!]
"I feel like I have 'failed'.. I feel more connection in the celtic churches & with Mary Magdalene and Mary than I do here.. and I feel more energy ley lines at home in Katoomba than I do here today. I feel let down by all the hype about this ley line"
in the back laneways in Marazion.. I cried in the cold.. my nose went red....
This is such an emotional journey for me.. the tracing of the ancestors and being here where they lived. hundreds of years ago. feeling a connection to them but not so much the land itself. missing home. .. so much to sort in my head..
Off to find Perranuthnoe.. not far along the road. I am sure if it was warm weather, we could have walked but this is biting Atlantic wind..
here we are!! a name that i had read many times on the map of my ancestors. It is like joining up dots on a map and coming up with the answer to some kind of riddle.. a kind of treasure map.
other church where my ancestors may have attended. Of course in early times they would have been what is now called a pagan.. following the seasons.. and THAT is what RUNS deep within my veins.. and what I am going to embrace even more, in my own way, Australian style.. when I get home.
Joe found this grave.. very faded, but the surname Curnow was slightly visible. Curnow is a family name that goes back many generations on my tree. A very strong Cornish name.
we had a look into the church and I found a book there about the Parish.. there was a sign advising that a copy of this book was for sale in the local craft store.. so we walked down there & I got chatting to the owner who was very interested in my story and gave me the number of the Vicars wife in St.Hilary, not far.. who has been doing a history of the area and will be very interested in meeting me. [I will call tomorrow].. anyhow.. the book could not be found and she suggested that we go back to the church and put a donation into the box, with a note.. and take one of the copies there.. so we did.
then we had lunch in a lovely little cafe next door.. full of yummy food.. cakes..
and then a walk to the beach.. I walked for a little while on the beach.. feeling a lot more settled and calm than I had earlier. This is a holiday for me.. to trace my family, to settle a discontent and yearning that I have carried within for many years, to heal ancestral lines [they say our ancestral DNA goes back 7 generations]....
our day at Perranuthnoe:
these flowers, sitting on our table, really brightened the day & my spirits. the colours were gorgeous..
a tower of meringues... no, I didn't have one.. I had rice pudding flavoured with rose-water and cardamon. delicious.
farm land. right next to the coast. growing brassicas.
looking for shells but finding rocks... on the beach that my ancestors most probably walked. did I feel connnection? yes, i felt their presence. a calming peaceful presence.
I don't understand the magick of this land at all.. it is like i have learned finally, that I don't need to.. I understand and feel my own country's magick - in the trees and rocks.. it is different to here.. and that is why I don't feel such a connection. because it is another lifetime that I had the connection. and now, i know I am connected to Australia. such a relief!!
These posts are really fun Robyn.
ReplyDeleteGlad you are Joe are having more luck than I every did (in equally bleak conditions overseas!) with the names of gravestone searches in your ancestral country of origin.
You always feel if you had more time you could go deeper with record searches etc, so it's excellent that you at least have a chance to catch up with the "vicar's wife at St. Hilary" - sounds so very English - will she offer you tea and scones?? - maybe that will be another assumption squashed with a quick Nescafe and gingernut instead! I love all the varied experiences and impressions that you write about.
St. Michael's Mount looks very impressive.
ReplyDeleteDear Robyn, I understand your emotional turmoil, something your need to go through perhaps to be at peace towards your home-shores. Your spiritual connection found in the churches, may you take this home with you and be your fond abiding memory of England for years to come!
ReplyDeletePS Don't forget to email me your address for the cottage you will be staying the longest in, I'm posting my cards soon!
Hugs x
It's a joyous thing that you are finding your real self, Robyn, and wonderful that it is in Australia, where you can relax and love the land when you get "home", and no longer have to wonder "if" you belong elsewhere, no longer have to search for yourself. xoxo
ReplyDelete