Home of the Green Mountain School of Druidry
Imagine a serpentine dirt road winding a mile into the forest. It leads you to an opening. As you enter the gates, you see a pond, an open hillside pitched with colorful tents, and a round house at the top. You climb the winding track to the top of the clearing and find yourself on a level area with a breathtaking view to the southeast, you notice a fire circle surrounded by majestic standing stones and a large yurt with a serpentine labyrinth below. There is a beautiful apple tree bedecked with altar and offerings. There are flower, vegetable and herb gardens, and a lily pond full of singing frogs. You sense a presence here. A potency and aliveness. It is both soothing and exciting… Welcome to Dreamland! It is the home of Fearn, Ivan’s spirit, Brinx the dog, Gryphon the cat, the Green Mountain School of Druidry and many other wild creatures and magical beings.
Dreamland is more than just a venue for the Green Mountain Druid Training, She is our greatest teacher and our community heart center. Many remark on the peace, potency and transformational quality of the land here. It is very alive and continues to gain energy through our good work, play and ceremony.
The name that we have affectionately given to our home and sanctuary came to us when the idea of living and working here was just a dream. Now our dream has come true! Through an amazing sequence of magic and acts of manifestation we are now the legal “owners” of this awesome 70 acres of forest, brooks, pond, and field. We are deeply blessed by this gift of good land.
Land “ownership” is not a paradigm to which we ascribe. This land owns us more than we own it! We understand that our short time here is just a blip in the vast cycles of time and the story of this ancient place. For us it is all about relationship, mutual stewardship and commitment. Our intention is to co-create with the land to build a beautiful, magical sanctuary; a place to inspire, connect, educate and transform people for generations yet to come.
In 2009, we three (Ivan, Dreamland and I) were handfasted. We had a friend make three rings, each of three colors of gold spiraled into a circle. Two (ear)rings were placed on Ivan and myself. The third was personally delivered by Ivan, who dove in naked to place it at the bottom of our pond! Although Ivan is now passed, we three remain committed to each others’ wellbeing. True love is eternal. Marrying the land is an ancient Celtic tradition normally reserved for kings. We have adapted this to a threesome.
We do our best to walk our talk as Druids by living and teaching in a sustainable way. We are solar powered, wood heated, and well watered. We are working toward becoming more self-sufficient by growing and storing more food and medicine. Students and guests are encouraged to unplug from the digital world, in order to appreciate the simple things and become closer to Nature.
Dreamland is now an official Botanical Sanctuary with United Plant Savers!
I’m excited to work with this organization and this land to protect and grow more native medicinals here, in honor of our wise and generous rooted relatives. Stay tuned for some rare medicinals planting parties! 🌱
Other projects to come;
- The Faery Cairn at the well
- Humanure compost systems
- Conserving the land in perpetuity
- A Green Burial Garden
Let us know if you would like to help these things manifest! We would not have gotten this far without all of the hands on support and sweat from many of our students and friends.
THE BUGLES OF DREAMLAND
Swiftly the dews of the gloaming are falling:
Faintly the bugles of Dreamland are calling.
O hearken, my darling, the elf-flutes are blowing,
The shining-eyed folk from the hillside are flowing,
I’ the moonshine the wild-apple blossoms are snowing,
And louder and louder where the white dews are falling
The far-away bugles of Dreamland are calling.
O what are the bugles of Dreamland calling
There where the dews of the gloaming are falling?
Come away from the weary old world of tears,
Come away, come away to where one never hears
The slow weary drip of the slow weary years,
But peace and deep rest till the white dews are falling
And the blithe bugle laughters through Dreamland are calling.
Then bugle for us, where the cool dews are falling,
O bugle for us, wild elf-flutes now calling–
For Heart’s-love and I are too weary to wait
For the dim drowsy whisper that cometh too late,
The dim muffled whisper of blind empty fate–
O the world’s well lost now the dream-dews are falling,
And the bugles of Dreamland about us are calling.