S is for Spring (s)

S is for Spring(s)

I’ve written a lot about springs over the years I’ve been blogging. Indeed, I wrote an entire novel about a very special spring, the waters of which heal broken souls and mend damaged psyches. (see Strangers and Pilgrims)

But a spring is a magical thing. Water welling up through deep layers of rock and earth, bursting into the light in torrents or trickles. For early peoples as much as modern ones, a spring was somewhere both practical and supernatural. The symbolism of the well-spring is embedded deeply in both my creative and my spiritual life. When I have visited famous springs like the Chalice Well, or the White Spring, I have felt myself to be in the presence of a divine mystery, a holy thing.

Yet for all that, my creative flow and my spiritual journey have dried up, become fallow and unfed by springs flowing within my soul, within my self. Sometimes springs do dry up; sometimes they reroute. Some only flow in certain times and seasons, like the Swallow-head Spring that feeds the river Kennet in Wiltshire close to Avebury. I would like to hope that the period of dryness will one day end but whether it ends with a torrent or a mere trickle, I do not know.

One thought on “S is for Spring (s)

  1. Hi Viv, Having just returned from the glorious counties of Wiltshire and Somerset, and having visited many of the powerful, spiritual centres in both beautiful landscapes, I positively know that I’ve taken a much needed long, cool drink of restorative (spring) water.

    Today I sense the poet deep within your words. For to read you is to smile, I can’t explain it any other way! Except to say that your gift and words are magical. Oh, how we journey back and forth, above and below, there and back again many times, in search of those living waters.

    If water is desired, sometimes physically taking ourselves (frog-marching in my case!) to local wells, lakes and sea can be vital in helping us reconnect to inner creative fountains. If you fancy a wander, maybe pull on your walking boots and take yourself off a-wandering. Warm wishes, Deborah.


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