(Photo Essay 1) We Remember by Kaalii Cargill

There are places in the world that recognize you and can call you by name, even if you’ve never been there. Our ancestors live in the land, and are the land. Their voices speak to us when we remember and we ask to hear. Robyn Philippa, “Animism of the British Isles”, sacredearthgrove.com

In my pilgrimages to visit with the Grandmothers at ancient Goddess sites, there have been moments when the extraordinary is present in the ordinary, a reminder that it is not just the sites themselves but also the land I’m standing on, the air I’m breathing, the sounds I’m hearing, the sights that stay with me. Here are some of those moments in my journeys to sacred places, moments that call me to remember . . .

My walk down though the olive grove to the sanctuary of Athena Pronaia in Delphi was accompanied by a chorus of cicadas. These insects have been singing here for millennia. Ancient Greek poets wrote odes to them: “O, shrill-voiced insect; that with dewdrops sweet,” (Meleager of Gadara, first century BCE). I had never been there before, yet the dry heat, the cicadas, the olive trees, the quality of light were all deeply familiar.

I saw these gourds drying on a wall on the island of Gozo the same day I visited the Ġgantija megalithic temple complex (c3500 BCE). Both spoke to me of timelessness.

I visited with the 2.25 metre high marble statue of Persephone/Demeter in the nearby Archaeological Museum of Aidone. She is magnificent and still very present. The land where she once stood spoke to me of strength and loss.

Even more than visiting the temples at Agrigento, sitting beneath this tree was to rest in the arms of ancient Mother.

I went to the Cumae Archaeological Park to visit the Antro della Sibilla, the cave of the Cumean Sibyl. The walls still whisper her secrets. Walking the worn stone path up to the temples invited me to remember those who walked this way over two millennia ago.

Meet Mago Contributor Kaalii Cargill