Arachne

By Arachne

Airy

It's an extremely long time since I've been to Glastonbury town so I'm staying here for the three nights before I have to be in a tent for six more.

The town is full, allegedly, of vibrations and full, definitely, of people who can feel them, of druids, crystals, tarot card readers and very many other varieties of alternativeness. I am too late for February's Occult Conference and May's Fairy Day and too early for the Goddess Conference in August but the Solstice was only two days ago so the town is still wafting with people on sunrise time.

Added to which, the rebellious Duke of Monmouth and his troops reached Glastonbury 339 years ago today, so a bunch of costumed re-enactors spent the afternoon firing muskets in Glastonbury Abbey grounds (extra).

Obviously I climbed the Tor - for the first time since I was 10 or so. I mistakenly took the steeper route up, past an unlikely collection of drummers, chanters and rappers, so was glad it was sunny enough to spend some time at the top recovering, watching the birds out of the top of the tower, gazing at the view (including some of the bigger festival tents five miles away) and chatting with a young man who has recently finished a geology degree and whose mother heals with crystals. I wondered how those two fitted together but got the impression it wasn't a good question to ask.

On the walk back down I declined a Soul Reading which would have changed my life.

Ah well, I expect I can make do with the one I've already got.

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