The alignment, cusp-line, ley-line or whatever you fancy, which I believe to be the middle or centre rather than begining or end of a sign or house, just kisses the northern-most tip of the mainland of Northern Ireland. It has to be said about now that this sign, leo, has an unmistakeable penchant for islands, which are phonetically almost indistinguishable from Ireland, whatever tongue you say it in. First there was Sheppey, then Man, and now The Island of Ireland. Northern Ireland also iterates the trinity and this time it is lakes, there are three very-large lakes in the British ruled north.

These are the landscape versions or reflections of the human-ego- islands, lakes, and mountains- individual 'entities' which stand out as unique, related-to yet distinctly separate from their surroundings. Does that explain anything about the Northern-Irish and the civil-war- oops- I meant to say... troubles? Could leo's distinct individuality have anything to do with the north's endless determination to remain distinctly separated from their neighbours- and ruled by a leonine institution, the British Monarchy? It does to me... It explains everything.

Now, on an entirely different matter, that of the Celtic veneration of the sacred boar, or piggy-wig, as we tell the children. I believe this 'sacerdotal' nature of the boar was based almost entirely on the landscape form of Ireland- as seen from above. Instead of looking at Ireland the usual ‘right-way-up,’ if we turn the island on its side it begins, like the Mithraic-Bull of Kent, to resemble certain 'divine' animals. It is my opinion too that most- if not all- of the god-forms of the ancients were based on the forms they saw in the landscape. But from above. I have many more examples to give in this and future blogs but no good explanation as to how they did this- apart from the 'map' explanation already given earlier. But how that map was made is another question- without a doubt modern-man couldn't achieve such accuracy without sattelite and aerial photography.

To the Celtic people, but especially the Irish, the pig was attributed with all sorts of divine powers, and was associated with the sun god- a boars helmet was considered a sign of kingship, and a pigs skin mantle was regarded as a cloak of invulnerability and even invisibility. I must quote again my favourite egg-head, Nikolai Tolstoy from his amazing book, The Quest For Merlin:

The wild boar or pig, was a very important animal to the Celts. It was essential to both their religion and their diet. Strabo says that the pigs ran wild in Britain. These pigs were noted for their height, odour, and the speed at which they moved. They were considered very dangerous to man, and even wolves were said to be at peril from these animals.

Magic swine were considered food of the gods. In ancient sagas these boars were supernatural animals which (...) could never be caught. There was a king who turned into a boar. It is said that one of King Arthur's party asked him who the animal was, Arthur replied: ‘He was a king, and for his wickedness God transformed him into a swine.’ This was the King of the Boars and belonged to the Celtic fertility goddess Brigid.

The Boar appears on the Celtic helmets during the early Celtic era. On the famous Gundestrup Cauldron, warriors wear boar crests on their helmets, and it appears on war standards in the Celtic world. The war theme of the boar is also echoed in the war trumpet, a musical instrument designed to scare the enemy. The end of this instrument (...) was in the shape of a boar.

There was an ancient Celtic God called "Moccus", a swine god depicted in the shape of a pig. The robbers who kidnapped St. Patrick are said to have sacrificed part of the meat of pigs they had caught ‘to their idols’ for which reason the saint declined to join the meal in spite of his hunger.

Pigs were credited with what to us may seem surprising qualities. They frequently acted as guides indicating where churches and other settlements should be established. The town of Glastonbury, for instance, was said to owe its site to the choice of a wandering herd of swine, and St. Dubicrus employed a similar method of surveying the site of his church by the Wye

Nicholai Tolstoy. The Quest for Merlin, P 95-96.

The lion's lair includes the whole Lake and Peak Districts, the Cat's-Wold- I mean- Cotswolds, and all of The Western Isles and most of Western-Mid going over towards the cancerian alignment and Eastern-Scotland.

It is legend that the kings of Scotland kept real lions when in residence at the castles of Stirling and Edinburgh- both have buildings within their walls known as The Lions Den. Iona is undoubtedly a place fit for sun-kings, even if they are dead. In 1549 they counted the grave stones of 48 Scottish, 8 Norwegian and 4 Irish kings, which have crumbled over the passage of centuries, and now entirely disappeared.

Arran may be famous for its sheep and the woolen jumpers produced by the inhabitants, but in ancient times it was known for that Celtic speciality- piggies- the a.s. word 'arrearan', pronounced arran, means, in Anglo-Saxon to raise swine. I know that linguists and lexicologists will be squirming in their seats at me interpreting Scottish place-names in the Anglo-Saxon tongue. But if it's true that the Anglo-Saxon invasion some 1500 years ago really wasn't the source of our Anglish language, that it is a prehistoric, native language then it is not too far-fetched to think that- whoever that ancient culture was- they named every place in triangular, severned Britain. I am talking here about the culture that erected Stonehenge and all the stone-alignments in these isles- the culture who had- clearly- measured these islands from top-to-toe and placed the trinity-stones at the scientifically calculated 'crux' of power- the axis-mundi. Surely they would have- while they were about it- named every place in these islands too? Wouldn't you? Especially given their understanding re': The Word? 

Barra, the divine porker again. 'Barra' is the old Anglish word for boar.

The isle of Jura: There is no Anglo-Saxon equivalent that I can find so in this case we have to look to more orthodox explanations, to the Vikings. Jura is a Norse word for deer- that's harts and hinds, stags and does, as mentioned elsewhere, regal animals.Population: Deer: 6500; Humans: 200

To honour the gods, the ancients named several islands after spirits (of the drinkable kind) or ingredients required to produce them: Rhum is too obvious to be missed, while the town of Mealasta needs little deciphering, as 'mealt' means malt (key ingredient of malt whiskey) and an 'ast' is an oast house or drying kiln- an island called malt-oast. The oddly named island of Muck comes out as 'mugha' in Anglo-Saxon, meaning a pile of corn- essential for making Scotch whiskey. These alcohol related island names link us right back to Blean, way back in Kent, which deciphered partly into tendrils of a vine, and gave me a reason to mention the god of intoxication, Bacchus/Dionysus.

Wearing the skin of a Lion, Bacchus would transform into a Lion, merely one of his many forms. He is sometimes shown astride a leopard or riding in a chariot drawn by panthers, and has been called the god of cats. He is the patron deity of the theater. Bacchus/Dionysus was the son of Zeus and Persephone, the queen of the underworld. A jealous Hera (wife to Zeus) attempted to kill the child, by sending Titans (giants) to rip Bacchus to pieces after luring the baby with toys. Zeus drove the Titans away with his thunderbolts, but only after the Titans ate everything but his heart (leo), which was saved by Demeter. Zeus used the heart to recreate him, hence he was twice-born. Those Titans are mentioned at the Isle Of Gigha, the ancient source of the modern word gigabyte, and all things gigantic: 'gig' means giant. Ensay a little island further north, also commemorates the big fellas, it too means isle of giants; 'ents' is A.S. for giants, and 'ay' is 'ey,' an island.

Bacchus/Dionysus was the god of wine, but more specifically, the god of intoxication, which is appropriate in the land that produces whisky. The Isle Of Mull also leads modern minds to the association of hot toddies by roaring fires on cold midwinter nights. However, the word 'mull' in Anglo-Saxon means a mule.The mule was the favoured mount of Dionysus, and a likeness of its head was often sculpted as the arm-rests of Greek and Roman 'drinking-couches,' along with such creatures as satyrs, maenads and geese, lions and humungous hunting dogs known as 'mollosian hounds.' These dogs were capable of taking down lions, bulls and wolves, and were used as sheep dogs in antiquity. Criminals were executed in the Roman circus by setting these dogs on them.

I mention the dogs for the specific purpose of telling you that it is during leo, in August, that the star Sirius (the dog-star) rises at or just before sunrise, initiating the period known since ancient Egyptian times as the 'dog-days.' And dogs are to be found- in legend and name- dotted liberally all over these western isles. This landscape arrangement once again is an accurate reflection of the cosmos because the constellations Canis Major and Canis Minor (the 'big-dog' and the 'little-dog') are associated in mythology and in outer-space with the constellation leo.

The Isle Of Harris (Na Hearadh) and Lewis (Leò-dhas), a single island, mentions it. In Anglo-Saxon 'hara,' is a dog,’ and 'harasteor' is Sirius, the dog star. Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky, in Canis Major, closely associated with leo; the Egyptians described it as 'he who awakens the gods of the air, and summons them to their office of bringing the rain.' Sirius is the hunting dog of Orion/Osiris, father of Horus, the hermaphrodite sun and moon god. This lantern in the heavens has been the object of wonder, worship and propitiation to peoples throughout history. Also known as the shining one, was also worshipped by the ancient Egyptians as the nile star, stella maris (star of the sea) and the star of Isis,

But the big-dog has over 50 other names attached to it, all of which match up perfectly with our astrologically tuned place-names. A few should suffice: The scorcher, burning one, deer hunter, the hunter. Its appearance just before dawn at the summer solstice, June 21, told the Egyptians to prepare for the flooding of the Nile Valley, which their agriculture depended on to water the fields and feed the population. This helical-rising is noted in many temple inscriptions, where the star is known as the soul of Isis. In the Isis-Hathor temple at Denderah in Egypt is the inscription: Her majesty Isis shines into the temple on New Year's Day, and she mingles her light with that of her father on the horizon.

The association of the Western Isles with the star sirius, the leo sun and burning heat is encoded, in Anglo Saxon, in the names of a few of the islands, the villages and towns on them, and the prehistoric 'installments' in stone that are crowded onto these remote islands, known as The Hebrides. 'Hebba' is to raise, lift up, exalt, and 'ridda' is a rider, man on horseback, an exalted rider; must be the sun god?

A bridge connects the small island of Great Bernera (burn-a-ray) to the main island of Lewis. 'Bern' is from 'baern,' to kindle, burn, consume, to cause to burn; the second part of the island's name, 'aray' is at the root of a variety of associated words, such as 'ared" (pronounced aray) meaning strongly, and 'areodian' to redden, to blush. According to the ancient astronomical texts, the dog star used to have a reddish tinge, though this is no longer the case. Astronomers suggest this is due to some physical changes occuring in the star-field between us and the star.

On Lewis, on the northern part of the island is the strangely named Benbecula: 'becola is a spectre, while 'ben' is something beneficial, something good, and a prayer or request. A prayer to the 'good spirit;' we assume of course that the 'good spirit' is the sun-god- the 'soul-of-the-world.' The theme of dogs- somewhat spooky-dogs to be sure- comes in at Loch Langavat where a family of werewolves are said to occupy the island in the loch. They are rumoured to be 'dead,' though, but according to local lore, they will 'rise again' if their graves are ever disturbed. Luskentyre. A hound has been known to leave oversized paw prints on the damp sand which vanish suddenly half way across the beach. 'Lus' is A.S. for louse, 'ken' is 'cen' meaning pine, and 'tyre' is tar. Clearly, that hound has fleas and lice, pine resin being a traditional cure. On Uist, a woman walking with two friends in the pitch dark watched as a self-illuminating dog, the size of a collie but with a small head and no eyes, ran towards her. The creature vanished as it bounded past, but the two men with her saw nothing at all. Once she reached home and described what had happened to her aunt, the older woman told her it was a 'cusith" a fairy dog.

There's a Neolithic stone circle on the islands, called Callanish. Callanish 'callan' to grow cold, 'nish,' is not. Clear as a bell, the name of the stone-circle means does not grow cold. This, as everything else the ancient people's named, is a double entendre. The Western Islands bath in the balmy waters of the Inner Seas (reference to leo 'the soul'), which take their water directly from the Gulf-Stream, so it doesn't get very cold here, even in winter. It also refers to the sun, which never grows cold, and to sirius, its 'prototype,' Psalm 84:11:'The Lord God is a sun.' The island of Coll keeps things in the fiery vein, makes reference too to that round, yellow, hot thing in the sky that rules the sign of the lion, stag and boar, for in Anglo-Saxon 'coll’ is a hot coal.

Stornoway (Steòrnabhagh in Gaelic): 'steor' is star, 'no' is the north, and 'way' is hunting, pursuit and wandering: north star + hunting. The 'north star' in question would be the pole star, polaris, in the little bear, Ursa Minor, readily observed in these far-northern climes.

The Hebridean's make a big issue of the day of the sun, Sunday, being perhaps the last place in Britain which completely shuts up shop on the sabbath. Until quite recently, you couldn't even catch a bus on a Sunday, let alone buy a newspaper. One of the more southerly islands memorialises this fondness for the day of the sun in its very name, the island of Sundray.