The Devil's Chair

 

When the sun hits the rock it shines white as bones

The air so full of skylarks, the earth so full of stones

Grasses dance light-headed, but as you walk take care

Thoughtless feet can miss a beat upon the Devil’s Chair

 

 

 

Comes a storm from the west as they have time and again

The cloud comes down in seconds and the hill is lashed by rain

See the twisting showers running between Corndon and the Cairn

Something dark has come to rest upon the Devil’s Chair

 

Keep your eyes upon the skies

In this land of dark and light

The heather where you lay on a clear summers day

Is no place for you to stay come the night

 

The bubbling curlew’s calling, glimpse the peregrine slice the sky

Ravens tumble on the rock pile and on ragged wings they fly

Sheep’s skull in the bracken where the foot can miss the stair

The stones are not forgiving upon the Devil’s Chair

 

Summer skies are thick with lies

To draw the dreamer’s stare

The summer squall, the slick footfall

And the lonely buzzards call

Have a care

 

The stones are crowned with rain clouds

And the fox has gone to ground

Wild Edric chases darker prey

And the ghosts all gather round

 

Between the earth and heaven, between sunset and sunrise

Between dreaming and reality do you trust your ears and eyes

Six summer birds are darting, they skim the hillside fine

When you hear the seventh singing you’ve reached the end of time

 

When thunder groans upon the stones

The hunt is on the ride

Take the lower path or keep to your hearth

You’ll not want to hear them pass by your side

 

Night rolls in the rain clouds and paints dark across the Mynd

Autumn bites into the air and winter rides upon the wind

Bracken dies back from the earth like bones so hard and bare

The world is not forgiving.

The stones are not forgiving,

It’s hard for all things living

Upon the Devil’s Chair

 

The Stiperstones are not a particularly high or spectacular range of hills, but the quartzite outcrops of Cranberry Rock, Manstone and the Devil's Chair exercise a strange fascination. The stories about them abound: the Devil spilled these rocks from his apron and, when the cloud covers the Chair, the he has taken his seat there. All the ghosts of the County gather here every December 22nd and Wild Edric,who is buried beneath the rocks, leads his wild hunt across the hill at night. Look out for the Seven Whistlers too - six birds are skimming the hillside looking for their lost seventh companion. When they find him the world will end…….

Probably a greater risk for walkers here is a turned ankle and a painful hobble back to the car park.