 Lughnasadh
2005 Booking Form
OBOD camps exist to support the course and give members an experience of communal
living and space for creative activities, eisteddfod, druidic groves,
workshops, lectures and hands on practical experience on many levels,
from peeling carrots to creating ritual.
OBOD members
views on the last Lughnasadh camp 2003
How to describe the wonder that is the OBOD Lughnasadh camp?
In the teeth of
weather guaranteed to dampen the spirits of less hardy bods, the
daily circles of the talking stick at morning meeting testified to a
general
lack of angst and the energetic and positive mood of us campers - and
why not?
We had watertight and warm structures for our talks
and workshops and a full programme of exciting events from experienced
leaders.
We chopped wood and made contact with Lugh; became mythical beings
in a wide game which magically enaged the whole camp for an entire
day, finished off with a sophisticated sauna; put lime down the pits
to keep them sweet and ventured into the fire labyrinth; washed dishes
and visited
Rivendel for a feast; learned NLP techniques and fed the stove; a
LOT of us were initiated, two were married and the Dutch and French got
together to show us how to rock and roll!
And of course we were rewarded
at the
end by a last weekend of glorious weather in time for our Lughnasah
ritual: lovingly crafted by a team led by Raven, this involved children
haring
(joke! geddit?) in and out of the ritual gates, each transformed
like
Taliesin before being finally eaten by the big, black, hen!
There
are a few references to nudity in the pieces below, so I’ve got to
pin my colours to the mast on this one, ‘pour encouragez les autres’....
I’ve
been to every Lugh camp since their inception, and have NEVER taken
my kit off in public - nor have I ever felt the slighted bit awkward
or
out of place for not doing so; so if that’s the concern which has
so
far put you off trying this cornucopia of delights, why not give it a whirl next time? It’s really
too good to miss —PB
On the building of a Woodhenge
One drizzly afternoon four tree-trunks stood silently waiting in a field
in the Vale of the White Horse. They were standing there, wet, lonely
and apparently unsteady; the circle not yet complete. The beginning
of a
woodhenge. It looked like even they were waiting for the sun, for
the moment we could gather there with the whole tribe in a new skybender
for the Lughnasadh camps, hopefully for a couple of years to come.
And
Ana had a vision; the following day, there, on that spot, Helmsdeep
was
going to be defended against the hordes of Orcs and Uruk-Hai.
Builders
unite! Once upon a time the builders of Stonehenge had completed
a sheer impossible task. That day the same miracle seemed to be happening
again.
As if the team had access to the knowledge and experience of, and
was
inspired by, our ancestors.
Measuring the centre of the circle, determining
the exact location of the Quarters, finding out the position of
the holes- (silent advice from the Gods might have been whispered in
someone’s ear
every now and then). It became a day of digging holes, the erection
of the pillars, every one of them a sacred moment, drilling holes
in the
beams with a panting breath, bruises and a lot of teamwork, a great
teamwork. A suggestion here, a gesture of support there. Many hands
make work light.
There arose a special focus and dedication in the group, with one
goal; that evening the skybender, as Helmsdeep, would embody the
unfoldment of the ‘Two Towers’ in the wide game.
Philip had spoken
earlier that week about magic as the manifestation of practical
reality. This
wasn’t a journey in the light body to other realms. No journey
in spirit to invoke magic and inspiration. This was solid, grounded,
sweaty and
muscle straining magic. A connection between earth and wood,
hands and tools.
Half an hour before the wide game started, the
skybender stood
firm and ready. Not
even five armies of Orcs should have been able to overthrow
it.
Magic indeed. It was a wonderful experience to work together
this way
and to know how much can be done with our talents and energy
in that special atmosphere at camp.
Fortunately, Adam feels
the strength
and magic of the circle as well, so that our woodhenge
may stay in
the
field. The posts will be, again silently, standing there,
in eager anticipation
of the return of the tribe for another magical Lughnasadh camp .— Marjorie
Some memories of Lughnasadh camp......
A welcome that made me feel I had come home, that this was reality. A
naked man chopping wood, his manhood rising and falling in unison
with
the rhythm of the logging axe.
Initiation, guts writhing for the rest of the week as I began to
feel, as if for the very first time.
Dressing walking and talking as an Ent might, starting to think
as an Ent might...
A wedding, joy and love overflowing from my cup. Awe and wonder
at the exquisite beauty of painted bodies, whatever shape or
size.
A bat flitting through a fire-walking mantra-chanting circle
in
the black of night.
The crack as a mighty tree knelt to touch the earth again.
Early morning spirals of mist, the dawn sun forming awen
rays through
the branches
of a friendly oak.
Whispers in the wind - If only we could always live a bit
more like this......
Come fire or flood I'll be there for Samhain, brothers
and sisters, I'll be there —Henart
Camp triad......
3 major challenges for the Bard in summercamp:
Ants in your pants,
mosquitos in the air,
and natural latrines in the earth.
Greetings from Karsten, Bardic grade
Friday night at camp saw a wonderful eisteddfod in Woodhenge, suitably cloaked
in tarps and with a bright fire burning in the centre and haybale seats.
The daily poetry group did a presentation there...... I've been at the
Lunasdah Camp this year and joined the Poetry Course with River.....
This is the one I introduced:
Crowdy Streets.
Traffic.
Cars.
Business.
Compromises.
Arrangements.
Appointments.
The airport.
I fly away!
Now I am here.
In the middle of Nowhere.
Green grass under my feet.
Sunshine warming my heart.
Wind playing with my hair.
The smell of wood is in the Air.
The sound of music everywhere,
come here from ancient times.
Somewhere a crying child.
Everywhere warm open arms to receive.
Nicole
Impressions of a first-timer
From the moment that Balin picked me up from Highworth village, I thought
to
myself, 'It feels good to have arrived - this is going to be a memorable
weekend!'. A relaxed cup of tea at the gate reinforced my sense of
being at home.
After a day's travelling on public transport, the quiet
hospitality
and stillness of the gate helped me to arrive in spirit as well
as body. Not knowing anyone on the camp and still in my habitual
individualistic
rut, I started off from the gate in search of aquiet corner to
set up
my tent on my own.
However, while passing a small camp fire I was
greeted by Steve, Jane and Michele with a warmth that said 'Come
and join us!',
so I happily pitched my tent within their circle of welcome.
With that I felt part of the spirit of friendship and community
that I continued to sense over the next two days, knitting
together such
a wide variety of people in the many and varied activities
and gatherings.
A personal highlight amongst these events was the
Labyrinth of Fire
ritual.
As darkness settled on my first evening at the camp I joined
a long chain of campers holding hands and chanting, which snaked
its way
up the field
to the Labyrinth.
Here, we watched as meandering lines of fire
were slowly lit. Processing through the Labyrinth was my
first experience
of Druidic
ritual and what a liberating experience it felt. I was
part of a communal symbol that I could fill with my own feelings
and
meanings.
Skyclad
between grass and the starry sky above, I had a powerful
sense of
connection with people and planet that continues to
inspire me.
Another highlight
was Barry and Ann's workshop on meeting Lugh. The combination
of talk and ritual was
highly evocative. It felt like being introduced to a friend
who'd been hovering in the background for a long time and who's
companionship
promised to be an important part of the journey ahead.
I
had other more solitary highlights such as meditating
in the open
field under
the sun
and in the grove by the magnificent oak.
The weekend was full of auspicious moments from the conclusion
of the Labyrinth of Fire with an awesome crash and
crunch of a huge
willow
collapsing onto the campsite under its own weight
to quieter epiphanies of friendship
and communion. The camp ended too soon for me, but
short though it was, it felt like an auspicious beginning. —Seán
Lughnasadh camp....
The sight of so many lovely naked men was worth the effort of getting
to OBOD's Lughnasadh camp in the Wiltshire countryside! Seriously
though, nudity seems to be increasingly in vogue at camp, both
in ritual
and just for the pure joy of enjoying the eLUGHsive English sun.
The camp survived both deluge and Ronald Hutton's ability to completely
debunk
the received wisdom of Lugh as the ancient Sun-God of
Western Europe - ah well, worse things have happened at sea! In fact,
come to think of it, the 3-day rain took place shortly after Ronald's
talk...humm, funny that!
Later on, we had scorching sun. Hot, but at least there were naked men!
And then there was the not to be forgotten replica of Woodhenge,
or at least a loose representation of it, in which to host workshops,
the five rhythms dance led by Eight, an Eisteddfodd run by the inimitable
Penny and Arthur and a Goblin Market at which crafty members were
able to sell their wonderful wares.
So much happened during the full ten day camp it is hard to know
where to start.
Let's go back to the beginning and talk about the weather again!
Someone was heard to remark that they felt they had experienced a
whole year's
worth of weather in the space of the camp. So all in all, it was
a bit of an endurance test. But the spirit of the camp rose to the
challenge,
as always, and people maintained a healthy optimism that the following
day would
be fine.
Events were thick and fast. In the first few days we had a very satisfactory
sweat lodge, run by Mark Graham, with the lodge erected in half an
hour, and they talked about putting up Woodhenge, then there was
Ronald's talk,
and a Druid wedding followed by a wedding feast...and they talked
about putting up Woodhenge.
As the camp gained momentum, Ana came to camp and there was a Rivendel
workshop to help the elves and other Tolkein people to dramatise
their roles and magic up their costumes...and they talked about
putting up
Woodhenge.
Then we had the night of the Wide Game. Fortunately Ronald's rain
stopped to enable this to take place. A whispering magic spread around
camp and nearly everyone seemed to have fully fledged characters, complete
with costumes. The excitement
was
palpable in the air as everyone scurried around making last minute
preparations and the children started their mock fights in anticipation
of the great
battle at Helmsdeep - held in Woodhenge, which had been erected at
lightning speed just in time.
The Ents, tree herders by the score, looked like SAS specials lost
in the woods, but were remarkable for their costume and characterisation.
The children excelled in their roles and special mention must be given
to Ellen and Rowan who shared the role of Sam
Wise, Hannah
as Merry and Avalon as Pippin. Bob and Bekki as Frodo and Gollum
were hand picked to perfection by some very clever talent spotter
whilst
Gandalf (Keith) was towering and majestic.
The Wide Game's scenes were wonderful for all involved and proved
an amazing spectacle from afar, with all the lights and ambient
sounds floating across the camp from Rivendel (Wellbeing) Helmsdeep
(Woodhenge),
The
Golden Hall (Children's Marquee), Fangorn Forest (er...the bit
of wood
by Gate).
The moving play - which astonished some of our foreign
guests who had literally never seen anything like it - started
at dusk and
went on until long after dark. Long after the boys, usually the
most ferocious
of fighters and excitable of players, had yelled their last, glutted
on a blissful night of fantasy and excitement.
At around ten o clock, all fell silent. All was peaceful in the
camp. We slept well that night.
The next morning it rained again!
Chris Parkes was the Master of the Labyrinth this year. He lead
a very insightful workshop on the meaning and purpose of the
labyrinth in
myth and magic, followed by the actual experience.
Once again
it was a
spectacle to behold for just after darkness had fallen on the
camp, the inclining pasture on one side of the camp field was
lit up
with a labyrinth
of fire. Many took the opportunity to deepen their experience
by following the labyrinthine path, sky-clad. It seemed the most
appropriate thing to do.
Then, just as people were coming down from the heightened energy
of this heady experience, a huge crack seemed to split the air,
and onto the field fell half of a huge willow tree, just where the Ents
had been sheltering the night before.
People were a little sad for the tree, until those versed in
tree-lore reassured us that this was normal, it was why they
were called
'crack willow'. The camp was also relieved that this had happened
the night
AFTER the Wide Game!
The morning meetings got ever later as the camp progressed, but
surely the most remarkable was one which strayed into the afternoon,
partly
because the Dutch and French OBOD factions had put their remarkable
musical talents together to write and perform for us. We were
entertained by
their amazing Elvis compilation from Raven and Rudi and an incredible
song to the She-Wolf Protector Goddess by French bride, Helena,
which had the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.
The traditional Lughnassadh Eisteddfodd had new bards galore,
performing with instruments, performing, singing, telling incredible
stories.
There were even funny odes and ditties, and Newell's interesting
concept of
'Freaking the Mundanes' (Walzing Matilda) was extremely funny,
if a little cruel, as with all the best humour.
Now suddenly Lord Lugh smiled down on us once again, and just
as we were preparing for our last few days on camp - we were
able
to get
a slight
tan just in time! The children, who only a few days before had
been taken to the cinema early to escape the rain, were now begging
to
go to Buscot
Weir to cool down.
How I loved that sense of connection with all those good hearted
souls beating the bounds who had the energy to bang those drums
and saucepan
lids as I lay still dreaming within my nylon skin home by the
hedge(!) Believe me guys, I used to join in, muttering along
to the 'Cool
Cool Water' and the 'Goddess' Well'!
Now at the end of the camp I was finally relaxed enough to join
the very last of the awe inspiring 'early morning' Noise Extravaganzas,
honouring
the Four Directions and the Spirit of Place - they can't fail
to have been impressed, if not a little shocked at that time
of the
morning!
Goblin Market on Saturday afternoon and the 'Taking the Camp
With You' Workshop run by Bekki and Steve rounded off an extremely
action
packed
camp, rich with sights and sounds, new friendships, fresh insights,
deeper understandings...and the sauna (for which we are eternally
grateful, dear Bob!).
And yes, the children did get to the Weir in the end, for three
days running I hear.
Lughnasadh 03, long may you stay in our memory, those wonderful
days of plenty! I might be harping on a bit but here's a message to Galadriel
Becky...that bet stands for Lughnasadh 04. Flex those fingers,
I'll see you
there! —Cathy Huxley.
NB: OBOD camps are open to OBOD members & their accompanied families and friends. |
