“Tiny flecks of white sprinkled on her lush green cloak She walks beneath a canopy of blue skies and wispy clouds Bearing silent witness to the spring birds call Come to her heart, the heart of the universe, Where Albion’s born…”

Flanked by caravans all around, it was a regular campsite - yet it felt as if we were existing in Lord Shiva’s abode.

The weekend opened to a rousing start with Tim Bruce and the UK Bhajan group, while the lively Norwegian Dancers set the tone on Friday evening. The Spanish duo had everyone in splits. Light hearted attempts to get going a full-fledged rock performance ended on a tame yet beautiful note. But the silent star was a young English pianist whose French Classical piece magnificently complimented the glorious sitar. After which the evening slipped into a meditative pose.

Magnificent tabernacles had once again been set up with clockwork precision, giving the notion of a tiny village recreated in the heart of the sleepy English countryside. None of the activities behind the scenes seemed to catch the eye, as all weekend invisible hands worked tirelessly to feed the multitudes.

The nights were quite special as the moon watched over her children like a mother goddess in her palest gold dress bedecked with playful stars.

During the day people found plenty of spots to rest their heads away from the scorching sun. Especially popular was the flotsam-filled pond behind the camp, flanked by a reserve of fishing rods on either side. Occasionally one could see yogis who sat there shoe beating, oblivious to their neighbours.

A special mention must be given to the ingenuity woven into the hospitality of the English yogis, with things like the rubber pool specially created to act as a pressure-point for the showers, when the water levels in the tanks dropped. And the delicious smells of bacon, eggs and toast doled out at very modest rates, which had people queuing up right till the sun went down.

The Mini Vashi tent was still the most visited stall with its innovative treatments. This time rows of seated people could be seen balancing half a lemon on their heads, and their palms vouching for the effectiveness of this clear-out.

Saturday evening was another revelation with its astounding mix of folklore, classical dances and children’s performances. But the surprise package was the African dance by the UK collective, who had everybody swinging to the traditional Mambo beat.

The “Shri Krishna Play” by the Spanish collective would be written in eternity, it was such a visual treat. Every little bit of it’s joyous synchronisation emitted such powerful vibrations.

The grand finale to the music programs came from the Finnish collective, with their energetic Sufi Qawwalis. Special mention goes to the Bristol Collective, however, who along with the Welsh sang straight into our hearts, while the Midlands took the Nabhi into complete bliss.

There were many more shops this time, including a fundraising stall for the ‘Realise America Tour’. The space was shared by a ‘William Blake exhibition’, put together by the UK decoration team. Collective hands spontaneously chipped in to hang around 200 drawings and paintings by this divine incarnation of Shri Bhairavnath. Featuring alongside these were works by Sahaja artists. In the adjoining cinema, continuous slide-shows of further paintings added to the enjoyment of people visiting the exhibition.

Attention in the morning of the Puja was deeper than usual and penetrative as the clouds that resembled spirals of vibrations in the sky, extending into the Havan at noon time.

Later in the evening, Yogis were greeted in the main marquee by angels of every dress and colour floating from the Pendal heights, while the Kohinoor of the stage was a magnificent Queen’s crown, symbolically held by angels over the throne.

Our Divine mother’s arrival was greeted by the familiar sounds of Indian drums and conches. During the Puja deep within her most holy presence, one could feel moments of Her divine manifestation into the heart of the universe. It appeared that Her sublime glance traced hearts floating in realms beyond.

As yogis from the international collectives humbly presented their gifts, Shri Adi Shakti would occasionally smile at the children who had come up on the stage. She seemed to put special attention on the map marking “European realisation day”.

There was a special gift from the UK collective who offered their deepest gratitude and devotion by presenting a ‘Mandir’, a symbolic representation of a Hindu temple with the deity as H.H. Shri Mataji’s photograph in it.

As Prasad flowed into the early hours of dawn, the stars had come out to celebrate, while the moon stayed close to her children, watchful as ever.

Sharmila, UK