Cerne Abbas and the eel ...

The week before my colonoscopy, I'd visited Wareham Library - my spirits are always soothed when I walk past the book stacks there - I glance, smiling like Damiel, at the large print romances, the biographies, the Wallender paperbacks - I am calmed by the gentle voice of the librarians -

But that special morning, when I was more aware than ever of my body's beautiful fragility, I caught sight of a book which gave me pause - it was for sale, too, amongst maps of pub walks, in the Tourist Information section -

I picked up the slim volume - The Old Straight Tracks of Wessex - I forgot all about the jollop I'd have to gulp down, the gown I'd have to wear - I thought, instead, of the mysterious countryside, the alignments of standing stones and henges -

When I'd been given the all clear for five years by Mr Mehta, I resolved to buy this book, to explore the ancient sites it described -

I first visited the Cerne Abbas Ley - I drove there on the first of July - it was very close - the air was like a silky liquid - through the windows of the red Peugeot, I could see the slopes of Giant's Hill - I turned off the car sounds system - I'd been listening to Mid Air - 

There was the Giant - I stared at his magnificent outline - sheep were grazing all over him - I followed the route shown in the book - I had to almost crawl up the steep slopes of the hill - I lay down upon my stomach, looking up at the stalks of grass - butterflies swirled around my head -

I followed the ley line through a field of green wheat - dark lines of trees were outlined against the sky - I looked out for UFOs -

I saw no lights in the sky, but I felt as though, almost any moment, the still landscape would dissolve - I remembered how Arthur Machen would walk through the woods at twilight, half closing his eyes, seeing white people emerge from the shadows -

I made my way, at last, to Saint Augustine's Well - I looked down  into the water - leaves floated upon the surface, like tiny crumpled wings - I read a notice that said an eel, three foot long, had been found there, coiled up in the cool shadowy depths -

I thought of the eel, perhaps holding its tail within its small wicked mouth, unmoving and sleek, like a hidden truth, or a secret as yet unshared -