Monday, 17 February 2014

My mother said, I never should, Play with the Gypsies in the Wood...

DEAR EVERYONE
GONE TO LIVE IN THE WOODS AMONG GYPSIES IN PURSUIT OF ADVENTURE AND FREEDOM
BACK NEVER



I named this title from a nursery rhyme that I heard as a child and really loved, but nobody else seems to know it which is strange. To live in a world deprived from nursery rhymes...
It's no secret that I have an obsession with old fashioned gypsy living. From River Boat homes to Vardo's, being barefoot in mud and Game Stew. I know that living life as a traveler is not at all the same these days as the gay old world that we lived in, but I grew up fuelled on nursery rhymes, and stories about Romany Gypsies and their beautiful little communities out in the woods, playing music, dancing around bonfires, hunting for food and sharing their lives together as close knit families. I have no desire to live as a part of society and play the game every day that is the rat race. I have no desire to interest myself in the affairs of famous people or latest technology. I dream of living a self sufficient and resourceful life, away from the mess of modern day living, I dream to live as part of a tiny friendly community, living out under the sky and making my own clothes, wasting nothing, and wanting nothing but to just exist and enjoy every moment of existence.
It makes me sad to see how time has changed and travelling life has altered drastically. I realise I know little of their lives back then, and only have what information has been given to me by my modern day traveler friends and what I read in story books. Don't judge me on my dreams, sometimes dreams distort and alter reality to become the very reality that which we wish to perceive; my dream reality involves bonfires, fiddles and dirty feet.


































I truly believe we are not designed to live in cities. Least of all me, cities are freak out zones full of things that don't make sense to me, like cold coffee, and ipads. 


I love this little swing gate that leads to Nancy's copse. There are some stepping stones semi submerged in water to hop over. The woods it leads to are supposedly haunted by the ghost of Nancy Cox, and other ghosts. Nancy Cox allegedly took her life a few hundred years back (So the story goes) and some of the villagers I have spoke to have encountered visions and apparitions of her corpse swinging from a tree.
Others say if you're walking through the meadows early in the morning or around twilight you can hear the chilling laughter of invisible children playing near the water wheel. I love ghost stories they give me chills. 

These lovely places are in the village of St. Keverne South Cornwall  where George my boyfriend grew up. 
The Caravan belongs to Roskillys and there used to be a few others, I had my beady eyes on them for a while but they were lived in until some time last year when most of them were moved for repairs! Luckily they left one for me to explore in! and oh so considerately left the door open too :D There are some truly magical places in South Cornwall, it's enchanting and full of mystery. 


The River Lures Dreamers




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2 comments

  1. The more I read of your blog, the more I feel like you have been reading my mind~!

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    Replies
    1. Wow! I'm really pleased somebody found my archives :) I am also relieved I am not alone in my old fashioned thoughts and love of a world I only half believe ever existed :) <3

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