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Wolf is howling.

 

We are invited to a great remembering.

 

Once upon a time...

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9th-10th September
Retallack Woodlands, Cornwall

 

Dream the last days of summer under canvas and branches.

Meet ancient, wild characters.

Maybe, in the twilight, meet yourself.

£65 including camping spot, food and drink.

Lower-priced places available for those without financial means: contact us for details (no questions asked).

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Oral storytelling at the edge of the world

Recalling Fire is an oath to restore our wonder for life.

 

Share in mythical words handed down from our forebears.

Follow your deep animal intuition to be still.

 

Meet ancient, wild characters.

 

Maybe, in the twilight, meet yourself.

Mesmeric, deeply moving and uplifting for a tired soul. Those moments of stillness and reflection are still viscerally with me now.

What a beautiful evening. Thank you for the nourishment. I was moved to laugh and cry. I leave feeling more whole than when I arrived.

Anona Dawson, Dorset Wildlife Trust

Participant, Urban Biodiversity

Weeping at the crossroads

We are journeying together through the valleys of a choking planet, suffering crises of fear and separation and obfuscation. Which way can we turn?


Wolf knows. She's howling for us to take a sharp exit from the path we're stumbling down and pause. Listen.


Once, fireside storytelling was the heart-song of a community, the meeting place of elders and youngers, ancestors and descendants, wisdom and vitality. A place to see ourselves in one another, history and nature.

In these times of confusion, intolerance, crisis...


We can call it back.

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"Myticism, myth and mystery are all related to the Greek musterion: ‘to close the eyes or the mouth’. All refer to experiences that are obscure and ineffable, because they are beyond speech, and relate to the inner rather than the external world.”

Karen Armstrong

What does your deep intuition say?

Somewhere inside, we know the way. Moving slowly, careful not to breathe the dust, we'll clear vine and blackthorn and bramble away from our sun-bleached hearts. The old footprints will still be there.

 

Pushing deeper into our nature, breathing and weaving our words of place, fire and myth, we might just begin to feel the rain falling on the land of our parched spirituality.

 

Maybe then we'll bring wonder back to the ordinary.

 

Maybe then we'll honour this remarkable planet of ours.

 

Maybe we can accomplish this.

If not for our own lives, for the descendants we’re dreaming of.

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