Wishing well, wishing ill

An incredible November day: the sun shone from dawn to dusk in a cloudless sky and the warm air was full of flying insects - I even saw bees and butterflies on the wing. Flocks of feasting birds flew out of the bushes, magpies screeched in the woods and wrens fluttered from twig to twig along the hedgerows. Sheep baked. Cows basked. I disturbed a dozing fox.

I'd intended to take pictures of my local 'holy' well to compare with Freespiral's recent blip, and I did but, either because of the unusual brightness of the light or because I had my camera on the wrong setting, I wasn't satisfied with any of the images of the well as a whole.*

So, what you see here is the gate that is placed across the source, which is simply a spring bubbling out of the ground, protected by stone hood in the corner of a field beside a derelict church. The origin of the well doubtless goes back to a pre-Christian era and there are often signs that modern pagans visit and leave votive offerings although I have never met anyone doing so. I'd picked a few flowers to adorn the gate but I needn't have bothered because someone had been here not long before me: there was a bouquet of hydrangeas hanging on the gate, a few coins under the water and, a charming touch, a shiny Cox's apple balanced on top, perhaps in gratitude or propitiation to whatever spirit is thought to reside here. I added my own posy of ragwort and campion because, although I don't have a spiritual bone in my body, I do like the authentic touch.

The well, typically, has the reputation of granting wishes both benign and malign. Traditonally a pin would be cast in (because who could afford to throw away even the smallest coin?) when you asked your favour - for a good harvest or the recovery of a sick child, for example - but if what you wanted was to cast a blight on a neighbour or strike down a rival in love, say, then the offering should be a bent pin.


* It can be seen here.