Giants in the Forest Chapter 6.2 (Forres)

Not for the last time, I thank my common sense that I don't talk too loudly to the Giants. After twenty minutes of leaping about in the glade, I spot a couple walking across the hill towards me. I ask them whether they knew that the Giants were here. They reply that they have come across from Findhorn to check them out.

This is the first time that I have been in a position to show off about the Giants. I explain to them that I am tracing the trail of the Giants across the country, and do a quick compare and contrast with other locations.

It turns out that one of the couple will be doing a story-telling workshop at another location, and they are more than familiar with the construction of the Giants. They are pretty nice about my grand-standing, and ask me which Giants I liked the best.

I reply that I have found it is no so much about the Giants themselves as their placement. I discuss how the Giants act as a sort of neutral balance, and take on the quality of the area. So, I begin, The Edinburgh Giants are like business giants, waiting for tourist footfall. The Bowhill ones, in retrospect, had a quiet, polite dignity. Forres' Giants are, perhaps due to their proximity to Findhorn, about to get a mystical analysis.

The three of us stand in silence for a while. I have tried to avoid getting too mystical about the Giants - although I have a blog post tucked away that bangs on about the nature of Trinities and the pagan symbolism of weaving. The couple bring it up first. They are pondering where the Giants are, guessing at another dimension somewhere. One beyond the one that I am wandering about in.

I shift uneasily. I don't like to admit that I have pondered something similar. I cough and reply that they are very obviously man-made, and that is what gives them their presence. The couple look at me and ask me what I think they represent.

I leap into a quick lecture on the ancient Roman idea that each place has its own spirits. I am flailing about in
this half-remembered idea (the Lares? the Penates? I know that Aeneas carried these out of Troy when he set off to find Italy, but...) when the couple rescue me. 'It might just be about encouraging people to visit the wilds.'

It's a horrible moment - I realise that from the moment we met, I have been treating this couple as new age flakes, assuming that they were about to burst into song or abstract philosophy at any moment. I haven't really been listening to them at all. They are kind and interesting and as they walk away, I am pretty sure I would have really enjoyed listening to what they had to say.

Had I not been hung up on being so rational, so scientific.

I flick back over my notes. I've been crossing out anything that might sound like a hippy - or allude to anything other than the literal description of the Giants. I mock myself whenever I play around with ideas, talk to the Giants. I am probably missing something.

There have been a few too many personal revelations on this trip for my liking...