Twinn
Merrivale 2013
Here Comes the Sun (it’s alright!)
Beltane Dawn at Merrivale, Devon, UK 2013
When the towering television mast was erected on North Hessary Tor in 1955, it urbanised Dartmoor in a way that even the prison and the stone quarries never quite managed. Consequently, it is not universally loved. However, most of us now regard it as a friendly way marker - the devil we know, albeit one usually half- shrouded in mist. On May Day this year, the sight of its column of red lights was a cause for great, if guarded, optimism. If we could see the mast at 04.00, that meant there was no fog - and if there was no fog, then there was just a chance that we might actually see the sunrise on Beltane morn. Would pigs fly?
The cool glow of a cratered half-moon half-lit the way to the megalithic complex of Merrivale, sited half-way between Tavistock and Princetown. The air was still, too still. Dartmoor + still cold air = mist, and mist means no visible sunrise. But the silence of an early moorland morning is priceless. The larks were up already, so too was an owl, and a cuckoo. I wasn’t the only one with interrupted sleep.
My first dowse around the modest circle of stones recorded 30 lines of radial energy spiking in and out from the centre. It was a strange place to start - there’s usually far fewer than that at rest. I assumed it was just part of the grand cycle of astronomical energies, but I was later to discover that the organiser of the annual Beltane dancing and singing had held her own small ceremony there the evening before - and consequently the base energies were still active. There are so many interacting factors that determine the level of energetic activity on any given day, and it is often impossible to disentangle them, one from another.
My second circuit around the stones found 39 radials - a modest hello from the site to myself. That Twinn bloke is back; he’s mostly harmless; better give him a polite acknowledgement. I managed to get in a couple more measurements, while I still had a few minutes to be alone at this special place in the half-light, and to absorb its unique essence. For just a short while the only sign of life (other than the distant twinkling streetlights of Plymouth) was the glow of a dim bulb in the old red phone box by the darkened pub, looking for all the world like an out-take from an unbroadcast episode of Doctor Who.
But I wasn’t the only one to have seen the frosty stars and the pristine mast. As 05.00 approached, a steady stream of headlights converged on the natural theatre, as it brightened, barely perceptibly, from the east. The first few participants drifted up to the stones and the radials rose to 40, then 42 - seemingly more out of curiosity than any serious attempt at interaction - and there they stayed. This would be no textbook May Day mayhem for the dowser.
The main procession wound its way across the moor in the mist-free moonlight, led by local dancer, Maggi Squire, in her full folklore regalia. The Beltane event, revived by stone-carrier and former town mayor, Caroline Keane (and boosted by the legendary attendance of the late Hamish Miller in 2005) is part of the Tavistock Festival of Music and Arts and, as such, it attracts a cross section of dedicated Earth Mother acolytes, green of centre performers, party-goers, dog-walkers and inquisitive others. Given that the dowsable reaction is an interplay of the people with their planet, the results are doubtless affected, to some extent, by the outlook and the intent of the various participants. So many, many factors!
As the ceremony got into full swing, the energy of place responded in kind. Now 52, 59, 61 - then an unexpected stall - then 65, 69, 70, 71, 75 - but no further. It stayed resolutely at 75. None of the 100+ responses that we have experienced at these megaliths from time to time.
As the due time of the Beltane dawn approached, the celebrations died down and the group, now numbering an impressive 50 - 60 (this is at 05.30, remember) gathered together in the circle to witness that rarest of rare Dartmoor moments - a physical sunrise on May Day. Only a few photographers, hoping for that special shot, a dog and a dowser held their ground. For what seemed like an age, the solar disc hid behind the hills. The published time came and went, and still the sky just continued to brighten gradually, without any real sign of the prime mover. Only another couple of minutes, any time now - still a no-show. I suddenly realised that with the Merrivale platform enclosed by distant ridges, sunrise here is nowhere near the computer generated, flat-horizon predicted time - and in fact we had probably been celebrating the unseen event for years in the thick mist at the wrong time all along! Even an impromptu rendition of the classic Lennon/Harrison/McCartney anthem Here Comes the Sun had no observable effect. Would we ever see it; was all of time and space just a mirage?
Then, suddenly, there it was. The tallest saw it a few seconds before those of us of less elevated stature, but it was definitely there, rising silently, majestically and surprisingly quickly out of the heather and granite. The assembled multitude cheered as loudly as if Plymouth Argyle had actually scored a goal. It was true, the sun really does rise at Beltane; it’s alright; summer’s coming home.
Given the raucous relief, the surge of well-being and the general bonhomie, I set off on a final set of readings, expecting (always a mistake) to find the radials powering up the scale. I went round once - 75 - and again - 75. Not a smidgeon of interest from the stones. Not a petrified sausage.
Merrivale appears be a midsummer sunset site, rather than a sunrise site and the only reason for us being there, rather than at any other equally significant location, is that it’s convenient and accessible. Maybe it was unwise to expect anything out of the ordinary. However, given the perfect conditions, the full-on aerial display and the large and enthusiastic turnout, the results were, to put it mildly, a bit surprising. Dowsing is a constant conundrum. Just when you think you have learnt all there is to know about the energies of a favourite place at a regular time, up pops a new set of data for you to puzzle over. Happy days.
Many thanks to Caroline and Maggi for putting on another hugely enjoyable Beltane welcome, and to the solar celestial body (aka the Sun God) for making a long-overdue, but actually very much appreciated, personal appearance. The dowsing might have raised issues, but the experience was quite unforgettable.
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Nigel Twinn Tamar Dowsers May 1st 2013