Whitsun Fire
Learning a new language via the birds - June 2026 newsletter
Welcome to the June 2026 newsletter which follows on from the May mid month newsletter ‘The Mighty Rushing Wind’ featuring our ascent of the Holy Mountain Skyrrid Fawr on Ascension Day.
House keeping
Thank you to paying subscribers and those of you who continue to send me cups of tea via the Ko-fi site, which you can do by clicking on the cup below. You are a great support to this ongoing work.
Thank you also for the ‘likes’ and ‘comments’ on the last post - please do ‘like’ this post by clicking on the hearts (top and bottom of post). Or leave a comment.
Happenings
The Shamanic Sundays group is on the first Sunday of the month - 7th June - as normal. Times are 10am to 12.30pm - you can find out more and book a place here.
Festival Study Group - beginning on Tuesday 30th June 2 - 4pm at Mandy’s home in Drybrook, Forest of Dean. This will be a weekly study group considering the Christ Impulse or Consciousness festival work of Rudolf Steiner - we will begin with an approach to Michaelmas and be adding in the astrology of the moment (in simple terms). There is no cost but donations are appreciated. Details are now up on the website here.
Astrology Readings - I mention these here because a lot of the work I do out in the landscape is ‘in tune’ with the astrology of the heavens. This is a rarified take on astrology - however, the synchronicities I find between the two are so complimentary that they always give much greater insights. If you are interested in a personal reading do get in touch - further details on the website here.
Whitsun Eve
I hope you have been following the story in previous newsletters of our (myself and Lisa Saunders) work concerning Skyrrid Fawr Holy Mountain - the two previous newsletters, The Thunderbolt sent on 30th April and The Mighty Rushing Wind sent on 21st May tell the most recent chapters. I would like to remind you in particular of the three birds of prey that gave us the verbs ‘to soar, to speed and to hover’ from Buzzard, Peregrine Falcon and Kestrel respectively.
On Whitsun Eve we decided to explore the hill Graig Syfyrddin which was covered by a rainbow on Ascension Day - above is the photo to remind you of our view of it from the Skyrrid Fawr on that day. We had decided to call it the Seraphim Hill for ease of pronunciation, amongst other things.
Getting many perspectives of Skyrrid Fawr is part of our ‘understanding’ in terms of taking ‘the festivals and their meaning’ (as in Rudolf Steiner’s approach), out into our environment . . . the intention being to assist in the spiritual evolution of humanity and our earth. A very lofty ideal in some ways, yet this is what we are called to do so so off we went to circumnavigate the rainbow/Seraphim hill.
That day began with the sighting of a hare, followed by a wander around the circumference of the hill which was wood bound until we came to an opening up to Edmund’s Tump, a slight rise with a trig point in an open field and the part where the rainbow had seemed to ‘glow’ angelically on Ascension Day. The east side of this hill is known as Dawn of Day.
Whit Sunday
The next day dawned promising a good deal of heat - very fitting for Whitsun as this is when the disciples received the ‘tongues of flame’ sent down by the Christ Impulse to help them go forth into the world and speak the gospel . . .
On a very human physical level, the idea of climbing a mountain in the hottest part of of a very hot day resulted in much worry and concern. Preparation was vital so carrying a lot of sacred water, a simple meal in a cool bag with a freezer pack and a trusty umbrella for shade we felt that paying attention to our ‘speed’ of ascent, the message from the Peregrine Falcon from our Ascension Day climb, would be advisable. So we chose the antithesis of the Peregrine, a very slow speed with many stops - there was no rush. As the first part of the ascent is very wooded we thought this would be the coolest part yet it was sticky and hot. When we emerged from the trees into the bright sun there was a wonderful cooling breeze. I immediately, but briefly, spotted a Red Kite - for me, this particular bird of prey has the symbolism of the ‘cross’ which I have mentioned in the past. It always shows up when I’m doing something with spiritual intent, as a confirmation of sorts. This was enough to make my day.
From this point there is the great spine to walk along, and up in some parts, and it takes almost as long as the climb through the woods. As we were nearing the summit I asked (as a prayer) for Red Kite to make another appearance, again as confirmation. Almost as soon as we stepped into the ruins of the St Michael chapel, not one but three Red Kites soared past with the waxing half moon as a back drop and made their way towards the rainbow/Seraphim hill of the last newsletter - Graig Syfyrddin. To ‘soar’ was the sign we got from the Buzzard on the Ascension Day climb.
We set about our work, which was a combination of meditation and becoming conscious of how the Christ Impulse was beating down on our heads (like flames) from the hot bright sun. This is me receiving the flames of the sun from the west.
Meanwhile, Lisa was holding up the sky with the waxing half moon above (not visible in the photo) in the south east.
Then we read Rudolf Steiner’s Whitsun Verse and also a poem by Owen Sheers entitled ‘Skirrid Fawr’ - this poem gives a sense of the physical, the unknown, the unspoken. You can read it here. It is the last two lines that speak volumes -
‘Her weight, the unspoken words
of an unlearned tongue.’
The whole of our story concerning the Skyrrid Fawr and marking the Steiner approach to the festivals ring through. The mountain carries a great weight, like a magnet in the landscape which has attracted us like iron filings on each of the specific festival dates - the Spring Equinox, Easter Sunday, Ascension Day and Whitsun. The ‘unspoken words’ are those shown to us by the synchronicities and auguries of the birds of prey. The ‘unlearned tongue’ is indicative of the ‘new’ language I’m finding through Rudolf Steiner’s work . . . and, of course, the disciples had ‘tongues of flame’ from the holy spirit rain down on them - their new language was not recognisable and is where the saying ‘speaking in tongues’ comes from . . . their message from up high was that they were to go out to all humanity and spread the ‘word’. In Steiner’s view this was tantamount to making the ‘holy spirit’ available to each individual and to ‘re-enliven’ all humanity and our earth.
All humanity
Following this we sat and had a (cool) repast whilst sheltering in the shade of the trig point. We had noticed some butterflies on the way up but at the top they seemed to whip up in to a bit of a storm . . . painted ladies, red admirals, tortoiseshells . . . often in pairs but more often in threes. It was as if they were on fire themselves, dancing and zig zagging to and fro across the summit in the restless breeze. And then the three representatives of ‘all humanity’ arrived in the shape of a mother and her two children, one a girl of 5 (nearly 6) and the other a boy of 10 who was on course to be a future tennis champion. What struck me was that the mother was of foreign tongue - she was Polish (I asked) and they lived in the area - but it was another sign that what we were up to was recognised - ‘all humanity’ in the shape of someone from another land . . . and the children of the future.
To top it off, a small plane approached from the north, low down and appearing to go by on the western side of the mountain. We all got up and waved and it altered its course, banking and becoming a cross in the sky in front of the flaming sun. It flew past us and as it righted itself flying due south, it waved its wings back. Another sign from the heavens.
Not long after this we decided that it was time to return. Of course there was one more sign from a bird of prey we needed to receive and within moments, in place of the plane, was the most extraordinary sight - a Buzzard hovering like a Kestrel, almost at eye level - like the Kestrel we saw on Ascension Day.
To hover
There is a tenuous link in my mind’s eye that the Buzzard was speaking to us in the tongue of the Kestrel - the way to speak is to fix one’s eye on the prize then to beat the air as if to fan the flames but all the while remaining in one attitude (or altitude) . . . hovering. The language of birds flies from kingdom to kingdom, ‘with unspoken words of an unlearned tongue’.
Whatever is next is also . . . unspoken and unlearned.
Thank you for reading . . . Mandy