Discovery of Sedgeford Lady Well

At Sedgeford Lady Well spring…Wednesday 6th August 2013, quite a sunny day.

This photo from This photo must have been taken in early spring, as the daffodils are yet to be flowering and there certainly is not the kind of foliage that was there for me. If I was to have taken a photo at exactly this angle, you wouldn’t be able to see the pool of water behind the rock because of there being very tall flowers and nettles.

Right now, I am in an absolutely glorious spot by a miracle that nearly noone knows about.  Sure, I don’t doubt that people know there’s a pool of water here, that Heacham River begins perhaps from around here.  But what I am at, what I have found by sheer wonder, is something more, much more.

It is running like blood out of a little step in the bank.  It begins at about two inches thickness by about a centimetre in depth, and is coated, encapsulated, with finger-sized chalk rocks.  There is soil at the very beginning, but that seems more in place to remind me of what the world is outside of this crevice.

I understand fully why people worship these things.  There is so much shakti to be found here.  It may be really tiny at the beginning, but as is an oil drop before it destroys the life of a whole habitat.  This is perhaps as pure as pure can be in these parts…filtered naturally through much greater filtration techniques than we humans have ever mustered with our ingenuity.

Small shrimp-like things come out of the loose chalky bed, that the spring rests on top of.  They’re tiny, but remind me of very big monkey fish, as I saw in a tank a friend in Bath was keeping.

I hear so much that I don’t normally hear.  Just now, there was a sound from behind the tall pink flowers behind me that sounded computerised, almost robotic and as if electrified, but it was speaking Persian and I couldn’t understand a word.
The trees are happy here.  They, along with the wind, play a chorus that could easily be mistaken for a New-Age relaxation CD.
There are geese occasionally clucking in unison as a crowd somewhere in the distance, over the bank, and the tall bank blocks me from catching sight of them.

Have you ever noticed how wood-pigeons completely reflect the energy of their area in how they hoot?  They are wonderful harmonisers.  They are so, so, ridiculously chilled here.  It is as if they have had the right amount of catnip, and they are now totally blissing out.

I am reminded of where I am.  The water from the fall at the back end of this miniature lake, blocked from view by many tall flowers and nettles, is beginning to harmonise beautifully with the wind and trees.

The pigeons have got their game together.  They are joined by sweet, high-pitched chirps of smaller birds, and the sound of occasional bubbles from near to me.  A large bird glides into entry into the pool behind me, and I realise as a small beaver scuttles across the water that the robot was, too, a piece of living magic.

The sun shades some lines over this paper, and over this creative landscape.  The water is glistening, almost vibrating in its awesomeness.

My only offering is my presence, and I trust that that is enough.

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