Ah, Glastonbury. It reminded me a bit of Eugene, actually – if Eugene had a 7th century monastery and world-renowned holy well and other neat stuff like that. But it was the first place I went in England where there were dreadlocked white people and Tibetan clothing shops, and that made me feel at home. It’s got that cheesy pagan veneer like Salem, Mass., but more hippy and less witchy.
In addition to the many shops filled with mass-produced pagan-ish trinkets, there were some halfway decent bookstores, and also a hell of a lot of taxidermy, which was a pleasant surprise.
The store pictured above turned out to be a jackpot for me – I procured a dried crow’s foot (which I can legally possess because it is a carrion crow rather than American crow, and not on the prohibited species list), and a flute made from a sheep’s bone (which is going immediately in my spirit-work kit, but also may serve as a model if I want to try making my own).
Then of course, there’s the ruined abbey, which is beautiful:
And the Chalice Well – one of those places (like the Tor) where I don’t really care what the origin of it was, it’s been imbued with so much power over the centuries from believers, it has mojo either way. I took a small bottle of water back with me.
And finally, the Tor. Of all the legends associated with this place, part of what drew me was that it was said to be a gateway to the realm of Gwyn ap Nudd. But admittedly, surrounded by tourists on the very windy peak, I mostly just found it beautiful.
Interesting to be in a place that has such deep spiritual meaning for so many people, but not really for myself. Everywhere you looked there were circles of folks meditating together earnestly. I admit I can be snarky at times about stuff like that, but at least it’s a hell of a lot better than most ways modern people spend their time.