The Clava Cairns, near Culloden, were created between 1500BC and 2000BC. It is composed of two rings of stones. The outer, 11 stones, is about 100ft in diameter while the smaller is 55ft in diameter. A small path cuts into the smaller circle, as well, leading to an inner(not escivated) burrial chamber.
 The sun was just beginning to set when I trotted up the grassy hill to the crest of Craig N’Dal. The stones were there as always, great monoliths in what must have been a circle at one time, standing out against the pale pink and purple hues of His sunset. It was a beauty befitting Samhain, the most sacred of the sacred holidays. And I felt my nature coming back to me at last. I greeted the first stone with a hug; I secretly called it the Mother Stone, as it was the tallest. My arms could barely reach around half of its girth, and yet it welcomed me back in its own way. Against my cheek, it felt smooth from thousands of years of weathering, and cold from the late fall air around me. All at once, I felt a part of them again. Energy flowing, pulsing, raging. It pushed me down to my knees in painful beauty, and I shed my sack and Book of Shadows to crawl to the circle’s center. I cried, in happiness and in grief, until there were no emotions left in my any more. The fox is well known for changing his shape. I knew it was time to change mine. And just as the feeling came over me, so did a dark shadow from above. After rubbing the saltwater from my eyes, I looked up to see the form of a hawk, perched upon the Mother Stone. It stared down at me, brown eyes surveying with an introspective glare. Though Mom had pictures of every species of hawk in existence, I was sure I’d never seen its likeness before. Its perfectly curved beak and speckled wing feathers made me wonder if it weren’t but six months old. She sat for a while, looking down upon me as if expecting me to speak first, so I did. I told her of my Mom, and of my problems. I told her I was angry at my Mom for leaving me. I told her how much I loved life, but had no one to share it with. I told her that I seemed to fail at everything I did. I told her that I felt like I had lost everything when my mother died. I told her that I was alone and was scared that I would be so forever. She smiled to tell me that I was wrong; I would never be alone. She told me my Mom loved me. She told me the whole world loved me. She told me that the only thing left to do was love myself. And she told me she could help with that. |
Note: Picture of feathers is NOT my creation. It was found in a free nature clip art gallery and used for the title graphic in this unpublished short story.