(Illustration by Meg van Schaik.)
Wednesday night's watch was characterised by a few crossed lines and phantom callers. By crossed lines I don’t mean misunderstandings or muddled communications; and by phantom callers I don’t mean telesales hounds pushing limited discounts on Covid 19 vaccines. I mean lines of a more mystical paradigm. Ley lines. (We’ll get back to the phantom callers shortly.)
Now many of you have heard of Ley Lines; those invisible and arcane arteries of energy pulsing through our planet. As the theory went in the early 1920’s, these long straight lines, actually marked on the earth’s surface like roads or pathways, connected ancient sacred sites in many countries. You can see some of them from space. That’s the topographical evidence, anyway.
But the metaphysical theories go a bit deeper.
They suggest these spiritual pathways mark a more mystical flow of magnetic energy connecting ancient sacred sites; like stone circles, burial mounds, the pyramids. And where these lines cross, supernatural events that transcend the realm of our modern western reality are known to materialise. Time warps, healing, inter-dimensional convergence.
Which brings us back to the Phantom.
On the watch last night, someone reported a car moving slowly through the shadows in the street in front of her home. It was headed in the direction of another NHW volunteer a few houses down. He didn’t see it. Then more calls came in of the car appearing and disappearing throughout the grid that is our village streets. It had no lights, seemed shapeless in form. I asked the charge office to send a van to my position because I couldn’t keep track of this vehicle from all the reports coming in from different locations, and therefore couldn’t relay directions for the van to follow. When the van pulled up to my site, I greeted the two gentlemen warmly, and explained the situation.
“I think we have a phantom vehicle on our streets guys,” I said. They looked at each other and turned to me: “A Ford Phantom? Because there are definitely no Rolls Royce’s in the village,” they said. “Not yet,” I replied.
“But no, I mean a car that seems to have emerged from… you know… a black hole?” “Oh, you mean Bonnievale” they said in unison, quite seriously.
In the ensuing stumbling futility of my supernatural explanation, I suddenly saw a shadowy figure silhouetted by the patrol van’s lights, at the Mill/Bree intersection. “Over there!” I said. “Who’s that?” The driver switched on his brights and the shadowy figure vanished. Just then, a call came through from the other side of the village reporting a shadowy figure at another intersection. The cold night air turned frigid, my wedding vegetables constricted, the officer listened to the voice note and said “Maybe he’s the driver of the Rolls”. Then he rolled his eyes, rolled up his window and rolled down Mill Street into the darkness.
They say that where two or more Ley Lines converge, you have a place of great power and energy. It is believed that many well-known sacred sites, such as Stonehenge, Glastonbury Tor, Sedona, and Machu Picchu sit at the convergence of several lines. And too, McGregor.
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