About six and a half years ago, I found myself in one of the most magical places in the world; a small farm nestled atop the bluffs of Southeastern Minnesota. It was dawn, and I, in the company of my teacher and three fellow students, stood on a grassy peak that overlooked the farm, the ravine below, and the rolling, forested landscape that lay beyond. Everything was obscured by mist, making even the rising sun just a soft blur of light. For a long time we stood there, watching the sun climb higher as the mist dissipated.
Then we got to work. We had a dolmen to build!
Only weeks before, I had joined a Celtic polytheist temple, and didn’t even know what a dolmen was. My newfound teacher had been hatching plans to build one for a friend of his, and was determined to get his new students in on the action. His initial explanation was as simple as, “you know what Stonehenge is? Well, it'll be like that, but smaller.” He went on to explain that they were places of great spiritual power, often thought to be tombs, as well as homes to the spirits, and gateways to the Otherworld. Dolmens are often aligned with significant solar events, such as sunrises/sunsets on equinoxes and solstices. Our own dolmen was measured it to align to the sunrise on Samhain, and was dedicated to the spirits of those who have been victims of torture and war, so they would have a peaceful place to rest.
And here it is, the Great Minnesota Dolmen:
As I was writing this post the other day, it came to my attention that Houston County (where the dolmen was built) is the latest target of mining companies for frac sand mining, a practice that has a horrific ecological impact. I hope that any of you who’ve taken the time to read this post will check out this website for more information, and sign the petition to stop the mining and protect the land: http://www.sandpointtimes.com/houston/
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