The land of Snowdonia is full of energies of sleeping dragons, ancient battles and pastoral living. Mossy rocks, expansive giant mountains, endless greenish brown marsh land with specks of black rocks scattered amongst the wild landscape. It is not Scotland, it’s very different. In fact Scotland is all I could think of on the way here, but that’s another story. The battle of the lands quietened down in my heart as I stepped firmer onto the land of Snowdon and breathed the air with less expectation and comparison.
Here it is much softer, more lyrical and quiet. Mountains are sleepy and welcoming with their smooth blankets of green pastures draped over. Sheep everywhere and those animals are touchingly tranquil. Vibration is subtle and I experienced a gentle tug around my solar plexus compared with a huge pull at the heart and soul yearning in Scotland. I hear pastoral song singing with farmers leading a life of sheep rearing and in love with their lush green land. Rain is welcomed by everyone here, there’s no resistance, it’s a natural part of the land’s flow, necessary, drunk thirstily by the green land outstretched as far as the eye can see.
This is the place you want to be when in doubt of your personal power, as mountains teach and vibrate with the essence of bravery, honour and standing strong in your truth. I was not previously that familiar with the signature of mountains and hills. I admired it subtly from a distance but never emerged myself into their essence like I always did with forests and trees, for example. Well, now I have another love. The gentle giants of Mother Earth are great teachers and caring holders of the land. As we climb our own mountains of life earthly giants embrace, guide and protect, echoing back to us our fears and joys. They are to be worshipped and respected.
The rocks are pretty awesome here, they are like tumbling beetles huge in size and quite talkative showering in the rain or shining brightly in the sunshine. They enjoy their place within the landscape, truly belong within the magic tapestry of the Earth. They are like huge naturally carved jewels of much importance, which the land wears with pride. I love the rocks here.
We are staying on a remote farm high in the hills of green grass and only sheep for companions. Last night the wind was so strong and the solitary old Ash tree outside swayed and turned like an indestructible beast in a battle with the elements or was it more of a familiar play between old friends… It reminded me of Wuthering heights and the moors with winds blowing unmercifully through the landscape blowing off some steam and enjoying the play of force and beauty. Standing in that wind makes one feel alive and truly in alignment with the land’s voice, an old, knowing voice of a wild landscape. In the morning the mist fell over the far away hills and with sheep scattered everywhere it felt peaceful and reminiscent of time standing still in natural beauty.
Waterfalls we came across made my chest expand in a deep breath to meet with the Water element. Water in nature is a powerful alignment with our emotions within. It felt fresh, crisp and cleansing to be around it. The black and white colours underlined the simplicity of nature yet the richness of the water vibration spoke of deep, complex and old wisdom. There is such beauty and talk in cascading water that one finds it impossible to resist the connection opening up in the heart when meeting with the power of water. It’s frighteningly beautiful and inviting.
Pottery, wooden crafts and candles shops invite you to explore and admire. All very delicate and gentle here. Houses are small and mismatched, tiny villages with only a very old church and a cemetery in it with a river running through singing its song of sunshine and hope. It all feels very soft and slow.
On our sunset hike one evening through the black rocks the land finally entered my veins and the sensation was sweet. It found its way in, hooked me into merging with it. I liked it. I became touched.
Driving through marshy hills stretching endlessly on both sides I hear humming, chanting and see smoking fires and colourful dances of old shamans singing into the air their ancestral song of pain and hope.
Will I come back again? Sure. I wish to see the land in mid-summer and immerse myself into the bird song of this beautiful corner of the world yet again.