Pilgrimage to the Logan Stone
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As the autumn clouds sweep the sky, and the first Autumn leaves descend, we follow the old track between ancient stone
'hedges', skirting fields inhabited only by wild flowers. Very few walk this pilgrimage.
Our path now climbs as the vegetation becomes more sparse and soon our view is filled by the blue-black silhouette of a massive
rock hovering above us against a pink sky, taking the breath away.
Towering, balancing, to inspire all who behold her, the stone rests poised on her precarious perch. We are tempted to push - but
the stone is implacable - just awaiting a certain gentle touch. I climb the stone to find a hollow in the top, carved out through
aeons of time by the rain and wind. I settle within it's natural welcoming bed and gently move within the hollow. The gigantic stone
begins to move, rocking back and forth, back and forth.
We each take our turn within the hollow of the logan to be rocked within the very earth, within our souls' dreams.
Surely we are in heaven.
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