Michael Davidson’s stone work
From Peter Vallance 19th June 2020 These pictures were taken last night, as sunset approached. There is an alignment with the Solstice setting sun at the side door of the Universal Hall. The stone is
Mystical arrival at Findhorn in 1976
In June of 1976 my partner Suzy and I walked barefoot into Findhorn Park Community from the beach at Culbin Sands. We were young twenty somethings; back packers and hitch hikers to the universe Our
My Findhorn story — Growing in Confidence
I'd become interested in intentional communities prior to going to Findhorn. I was part of the Koinonia Foundation community near Baltimore, Maryland, USA, from 1973, and had also visited Twin Oaks, and a Bruderhof community.
Dieter’s Hair Saved
Dieter was the son of a German bank manager who considered himself a free spirit and expressed this in part though beautiful long wavy light chestnut-coloured hair. He wore thick glasses of necessity and discovered
Wiring the Universal Hall
“I was only following orders” is my only line of response in light of recent revelations about the wiring in the Hall. Admittedly over forty years have passed, standards changed and wear and tear occurred.
Buying the Caravan Park
In the early 80s the finance department boffins recognised that the Findhorn Foundations’ economy was so drastically in the red that we were at a sink-or-swim moment. Then the owner of the FBCP (Findhorn Bay
STORM PETREL
Old Willie Dawson, with his puckered cheeks, inch-long bristly eyebrows and his shock of grey hair topped by a battered leather trilby, was the character of the caravan park. He had lived there well before
Peter Caddy in the Garden
I knew Peter Caddy, the co-founder of Findhorn, as a tall, restless figure often seen walking at speed along the warren of pathways in the caravan park. I usually avoided him. I never knew what
SOME FINDHORN STORIES
Here are some pieces from my book, Holine: A British Journey (Bulletins from the Wayside) Away Publications. Peter Please. 'Everyone here may be cool on the surface but underneath there is a cry for help.'
Richard St Barbe Baker
There is a kind of logic that I should glimpse this gentleman visionary in that other place of visions, Findhorn. That a recluse living in a tumbledown keeper's cottage in a wood knew this man
