Medicinalmeadows

THE PLACE WITHIN


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The Quest – Arrival at the Gates of the Abbey

The road to the Monastery reminded Godfrei of childhood fireside stories. Of landscapes belonging to the Faery Queen and tribes of old. Her whispers in the hedgerows that enchant the riders from their horses into the thicket. Beyond the world of living and into the worlds of the hills and mounds. The twisting lanes, oaks that appeared as old men standing with twisted limps and shadows of those long gone. As they journeyed into the valley, they descended under the sun line, as if heading towards the core of the earth. The horizon now disappearing. As the hazy light obscured his vision, he just closed his eyes and was absorbed into the sounds of the land. The rhythmical chant of the horses, the gentle thud on the earth, the birds singing in his heart, an ensemble of nature.  They all seemed to move now as One, not six riders on horseback, but One instrument.

The scuffing sound of the horse hooves brought Godfrei into the world again directly opposite the gates of the Abbey. He had suddenly re-entered the world, his ears unable to adapt to the bustling villagers. The locals with their carts and commotion of deliveries, was a sight he hadn’t been accustomed to for so long. The journey from the Bay had been in secret, in the dark of night, until now. His heart raced within his ribs. Was this real?

Was that his name?

There again!

His riders were all dismounting!!!  

He knew this voice calling in the crowd, now arms stretched out towards him.

He was slower, wearier, than the others, his hearing too dismissive from the long time alone in his own thoughts, and now, the back-and-forth noises.

“Godfrei, dear Brother, are you well? Come, come we have been waiting for so long to welcome you, come”.

As he looked with pinpointing precision a brown sullen figure with the familiar voice emerged as if from the walls of the sandstone bricks. It was Adam. Their eyes connected and Godfrei felt the highest zeal of energy. Joy flooded through him. He leaped down off the horse, in one long lurching movement. His legs unflexing from the sleepiness felt like blocks of wood, and pain rose to his hips, with stiff staggering steps he lumbered forwards. Adam with the same furry of excitement stretched out and wrapped his flapping brown sleeves over Godfrei like the wings of a swan, a shout of praise, streaming notes of a psalm, both in rapture abound one another.

Godfrei was home. His legs buckled and Adam lifted him upon his chest with cries of “home now Brother you made it. We have you now, all is well.  There will be a feast at Heaven’s order, to welcome you this day.  Come, come Brother no more does your body need to wither and wane in the tests of Our Father.  Be inside the dwelling of Our Mother’s House, for you are truly a blessed sight, come, come, dearest Brother”.

Godfrei could have sworn that he had passed out then spent the day wavering without his faculties. In the proceeding hours the Brothers took care of his bodily needs as expected. They washed him, inspected his wounds, delt with his injuries, dressed him in robes of their Order, fed him, prayed over him.  After the blessing by the hand of the Abbot, he was granted rest in a private dormitory, Adam would reside with him also, taking care of all his needs. Tomorrow would be a day of the first transcriptions, but right now he could not even grasp the first words to describe what had begun so long ago. And all he wanted was rest… all his body wanted was rest. The only thing that kept him going was the picture in his mind of this Abbey.

He would not see his Brethren travellers until the transcriptions were complete. Just as protocol dictated, for fear of merging details and inaccurate misgivings.  Beyond that, he still needed to deliver the charge in his possession, which remained with him all day, always within arm’s reach. The task was not yet complete. He let out a long sigh and heard Adam stir nearby, “will this journey ever end”.

Photographs taken by JT Salmon and recreated with Copilot.


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The Quest – St Mary’s and Michael’s Church Urswick

Part 3 The mythical storytelling of the Knights in Cumbria

They arrived at the northern coastline after nightfall. Immediately beyond the shoreline, the sounds of the woodland became apparent. The forest transitioned seamlessly from sandy terrain to the firm, crisp substrate beneath the canopy of leaves.

Their walk took them towards the starlight sky. At its summit, they felt the breath of the planet, the wind caressing their path, that now coiled down the earthly side of their mission to the Pele tower of the church. As they continued to walk the winding path the stories of those who arrived at this location over the centuries moved them within their hearts. The pilgrims, and the mystics appeared to be walking with them like their times on the labyrinth. Inside the thick stone walls, there was a distinct atmosphere; the stones seemed to hold a notable presence. Accounts from elders had long referenced this location as one established by the first Christians. It has been maintained by local villagers that continue some of the oldest traditions, their traditions from New Jerusalem and before.

The moon slanted through high windows onto the ancient stone floors worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Outside, the breeze sang through the yew trees in the graveyard. The night seemed to hold its own benediction. Wrapped in their cloaks, their faces softened, free from the strain of flight and fear. Here, within walls blessed by both time and faith, they trusted the silent guardianship of the stones.

Upon awakening, Godfrei felt well-rested and appreciative of the restorative sleep and profound dream state he had experienced. The sense of guidance provided by the “Her” remained with him. He recalled a similar depth of reflection during his travels as a young man in desert caves, where his early initiations with the elders took place. The resonance of the church evoked memories of those subterranean environments, akin to the nurturing spaces revered by the keepers of the Way. The church appeared intentionally designed to mirror the qualities of those ancient, earthbound sanctuaries.

When he stepped outside, instead of encountering the glaring sunlight he remembered from the rocky enclosures of his past, he was met with a gentle morning mist and diffused light. This was “Her” language —an environment characterized by vitality, abundance, and growth. The language of Her presence, Mary of the Fields. As he gazed across the landscape, he noticed a statue, he must have brushed passed Her in the night. And just behind Her in the field beyond, the standing stone.

Godfrei surveyed this landscape, absorbing the freshness of the morning dew, and his reassured vision of the path ahead. He recognized a growing awareness, welcoming him as he approached the final stage of his journey. His calling to reach the Monastery was strong, his bones ached for the restorative enclosure of the Abbey, but his spirit was already there. It felt like his heart was flowing psalms into his veins, chanting rhythmically with every breath.

AI image

This is the St.Mary and Michael church at Little Urswick UK, her previous name was St. Mary in the Fields. This church has history dating to the 10th century. A patronage of the Savigny and Cistercian orders, with a Stone Cross with Viking runic markings, the Tunwini cross. The tower has a sandstone Mater Dolorosa carving from Furness Abbey after the dissolution. And yew trees at the gates. The history emanates the rich spirit of land, place and space. For more information look at the Historical fragments at the Church.

Here, in the Church we find another Graveslab, a thirteenth century ‘Le Franceys’ grave slab which currently stands next to the ‘priest’s door’ in the chancel of Urswick
church. The slab is flat and tapered from head to foot with ‘floriated cross elaborately
carved in relief, and inscribed along the chamfered edge, in Longobardic characters + HIC :
JACET : AMICIA : FILIA : JOHANNIS : FRANCESSI, John Le Frances, named as witness to Roger de Lancaster in Ulverston in 1284 . HIC AMICIA engraved into the slab indicated a statement like Here lies a dear friend.

The stained glass windows above the altar had the most wonderful display of heraldic shields. The surroundings windows throughout the church had fabulous symbology to go and decipher for your pleasure.

This little Church is full of history and legends of Celtic Cumbria in Furness and the Tunwini Cross.

There are many delightful stories and history named in Ossik Coots and Collared Doves. Check by Reverend Colin R Honour. M.Ed.