The Sun Hung On Nothing
a tale with a twist in its tail
By the Devil’s Dyke, Cambridgeshire, 13 February 2025
Just as the even bell rung we set out
To wander the fields and the meadows about
And the first thing we markt that was lovly to view
Was the sun hung on nothing and bidding adieu
He seemd like a ball of pure gold in the west
In a cloud like a mountain blue dropping to rest
The clouds all around him were tingd wi his rays
And the trees at a distance seemd all on a blaze
Till lower and lower and sunk from our sight
And blue mist came creeping wi silence and night
John Clare (1793-1864), ‘Recollections of an Evening Walk’ (extract)
Hello lovely ‘between the moons’ friends.
I suddenly realised that I had started telling you the story of my trusty pilgrim staff and left the ending hanging. That was because at the time I had no idea exactly how it would conclude, but just in case you happened to be wondering, I now have a bit of an update for you :-)
You’ll find what seem to have become Parts 1 and 2 here in Through Dust, Sand, Mud and Marsh and here in Towards The Crescent Moon.
To give a brief recap, my horned willow staff was found, cut and crafted more than eight years ago during a very difficult time in my life. It was not an easy task to carve the horns from the mass of twigs at the top of the sapling I’d pinpointed, but once I’d spotted its potential I couldn’t help looking out for that particular tree every time I walked past the cluster of willows along the old railway line in Reepham, the village in Norfolk where I then lived. And bit by bit, chipping away in the front garden in odd moments, a pale, slender staff emerged under my hands.
I brought the willow staff to my new home here in this hidden corner of north-east Norfolk between the heath and the sea, and although it held bittersweet memories occasionally I would take it in hand as I walked the woods and trackways. But somehow my staff lacked real meaning and purpose until last year, when month by month it became ever more drenched in the spiritual residue from long distance pilgrimage around Norfolk’s coastline, local sacred sites and further afield in the very different terrains of Avebury, the Peak District, Wales and Anglesey.