Cornish Piskies' Day Out

Cornish Piskies' Day Out Taking a break from all the mischief to appreciate the rugged homeland we live in

Mousehole Lights, stunning as always, caught on PiskieCam. What's not to like?Happy Boxing Day everyone 😀 ...
26/12/2022

Mousehole Lights, stunning as always, caught on PiskieCam. What's not to like?
Happy Boxing Day everyone 😀

Merry Christmas everyone. 🎅🎉☃Wishing you the very best Christmas full of relaxation and enjoyment. Recoup your energies ...
25/12/2022

Merry Christmas everyone. 🎅🎉☃
Wishing you the very best Christmas full of relaxation and enjoyment. Recoup your energies for more escapades next year . . .
Might see you down the beach later today - in a mischievous mood already . . . 🌊🧝‍♀️😁
With love from the Cornish Piskies x
🎄

The Cornish Piskies Day Out Calendar 2023 has arrived! 😃🥳🎂🎊🎉We’ve been taking photographs on our mischievous adventure d...
02/11/2022

The Cornish Piskies Day Out Calendar 2023 has arrived! 😃🥳🎂🎊🎉
We’ve been taking photographs on our mischievous adventure days out and have collected our favourites into a Calendar, great for organising your busy schedule and perfect as gifts for friends and family this Christmas. The calendar is available in our Cornish Piskies’ Day Out shop, see link in bio. 📨
📷 Credit: /

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 4 of 4Ding D**g was distracted from his giant impressions by the clopping s...
23/07/2022

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 4 of 4
Ding D**g was distracted from his giant impressions by the clopping sound of two riders on horseback coming down the slip from Marazion. As they headed down the beach towards Penzance, he cooed at the sight of horses and stood mesmerised for a while, watching them meander along the shoreline that was glistening silver in the sun.
Then, all of a sudden, he took off after them. Worried that the horses would not see him as he approached them from behind, I immediately followed suit – being trampled is generally a piskie’s gravest fear. But I need not have worried as, by the time he caught up with them, the riders had steered the horses into deeper water, then turned them as though to walk out of the sea and back onto the beach.
The horses halted in the knee-high water at the sudden sight of Ding D**g facing them on the beach, and they looked at each other passively for a moment. My expectation of Ding D**g’s soft, horse whispering ways was sadly deluded – instead, his features hardened to a frown, he adopted the giant’s pose and bellowed at the horses with all the drama of Madron’s convincing performance the night before.
Both horses were spooked by his actions, whinnying and rearing up on their hind legs. I scooped up the now giggling Ding D**g and whisked him to a safe distance before pausing to look back. One horse had taken flight down the beach towards the car park, having first ejected its young rider for an impromptu wild swimming session in the silvered sea. The second rider managed to dismount their still agitated horse, checked their companion in the shallows was unharmed by the incident, then ran off on foot after the bolted horse, completely unaware of the cause of the upset, or of the soft sound of piskie laughter above the murmur of the lapping waves.

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 3 of 4The following morning, kissed by the warm glow of sunrise, our little...
22/07/2022

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 3 of 4

The following morning, kissed by the warm glow of sunrise, our little party of piskies was stirred into a celebratory dance on the granite causeway leading to the Mount. That is, save for Ding D**g, who slept on after his restless night, and I, still holding his hand as promised. By the time he woke, the sun had shed its veil of colour and had risen high in the sky.
I managed to get Ding D**g to walk along the beach a little way, but he would not venture anywhere in the direction of the piskie-adorned causeway before the incoming sparkling tide completely covered it. It worried him that it led straight to the giant’s stone heart, set within the cobbled path near the top of the Mount.
‘The heart is of stone because Cormoran is dead,’ I told him.
‘But Madron said, if you put your ear near it,’ whispered Ding D**g, ‘you can still hear the giant’s heart beating.’
‘There’s no giant,’ I said, laughing. ‘But if there was, why, Cormoran’s no more giant than a horse. And you know how to calm a horse better than the rest of us.’
After noticing Ding D**g was awake, the other piskies came to join us and we sat in a ring on the beach full of lively chatter. Until Ding D**g stood up and, copying Madron’s giant’s stance from the night before, let forth a loud bellow at the big piskie, taking him by surprise. Everyone fell about laughing, which pleased little Ding D**g so much, it encouraged him into the giant’s character all the more. I was grateful to see the little mite back in high spirits as he went round the ring of piskies roaring and giggling in turn.

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 2 of 3Ding D**g’s favourite place is St Michael’s Mount since his childhood...
21/07/2022

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 2 of 3
Ding D**g’s favourite place is St Michael’s Mount since his childhood playground in the hills of Penwith was centred around the whim engine house with its clear view of the island castle, bathing in the crystal blue waters of the bay way down below. We moorland piskies often go there to satisfy Ding D**g’s need to stand in awe on Marazion beach at the foot of the Mount when the castle now towers above him. He finds the scale of it fascinating.
The day after returning to the whim engine house, Ding D**g had dropped out of our piskie games and was sat alone on a rock on the heath, pining at the view of the tiny castle down below. We cannot bear anyone in our party feeling dispirited so, the following evening, we found ourselves on Marazion beach near nightfall, sat in a semi-circle under an overhanging rock with the Mount towering in front of us.
As the sun set, Madron, a stocky piskie, used his stature, wild hair and eyes and the dimming light on his craggy features to good effect as he told the legend of Cormoran, the giant who lived on the island. Stood in front of our rock shelter against the backdrop of the Mount, Madron’s storytelling was dramatic, with sudden towering arm movements embellished with plenty of giant’s roars as he told of Cormoran terrorising the big people of Penwith and the devastation he left in his wake. When Madron described how the young lad Jack lured Cormoran into a deep hole which allowed him to despatch the giant, he was not sparing on the gruesome details.
Everyone was moved by the drama of the legend’s rendition, but poor Ding D**g shuddered and curled up more and more as the tale unfolded. Despite our reassurances, little Ding D**g was restless that night, fearing the giant would wake up to capture and devour us as we slept, until finally he asked that I hold his hand and not let go ’til morn.

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 1 of 3Ding D**g is named after the mine in which he was born. More specific...
19/07/2022

7. Ding D**g Mine/ St Michael’s Mount – part 1 of 3
Ding D**g is named after the mine in which he was born. More specifically, he was born in the Whim Engine House of Ishmael’s Mine over to Boskednan, part of the Ding D**g Mine sett that overlooks Mounts Bay and its castle. Thus, he might more properly have been called Whim, which in truth would have suited him better.

Ding D**g Mine has a history spanning centuries. Mines used horsepower long before the advent of steam engines to bring ore up from the mine. Piskies believe that spirit energies live on in the places folk lived and worked, and that animal spirits are no different. Perhaps it’s why Ding D**g has a way with horses. He has a gift when it comes to calming down a spooked horse; as little Ding D**g connects spiritually with the huge, agitated beast, his character changes and becomes mesmerising – his movements become slow and fluid, his eyes, like glossy chestnuts, become wide and childlike and his voice soft like the sound of the sea in a shell – and in no time, the trust returns to the horse’s gaze and demeanour. It’s a beautiful thing to see.

6. Making Hay While The Sun ShinesAfter all the excitement of the Penwith piskie festivities at St Loy Woods, we said ou...
19/07/2022

6. Making Hay While The Sun Shines
After all the excitement of the Penwith piskie festivities at St Loy Woods, we said our goodbyes this morn and our little band of moorland piskies started on the journey back into the hills.
Ding D**g was dragging his heels so, after enjoying a spot of croust, we had a well-earned, post-prandial snooze in the pleasant, dappled shade of a hayfield of a nearby farm. That is, until we were rudely awakened by the ground shuddering and the increasing bellow of a tractor. We proper scooted towards the field edge, as quick as you can scoot through dense stands of stiff grass, along with mice and voles.
Just as well, seeing as the farmer was coming to cut the hay, he all but scythed us. Piskie Hay is no brand for you to peddle . . .

St Loy Woods – part 2 of 2It is at St Loy that we hold our spring and summer festivities, where we gather from all acros...
18/07/2022

St Loy Woods – part 2 of 2
It is at St Loy that we hold our spring and summer festivities, where we gather from all across the Hundred to feast and dance the days away, basking in the company and merriment. We gambol under the stands of woodland plants and over the stones in the stream that become bigger and more numerous as the wood leads down to the cove. At the woods end, the stream flows under a stone slab bridge crossing, then is rendered almost underground as it cascades into the cove where the boulders are stacked up on the strand to the shore, much like down to Lamorna.
We are puzzled when we hear the big people’s drolltellers speak of lavish piskey revelries, ceremonies with grand feasts and treasures of gold, silver and jewels being paraded round on platters – these are not known to us, they are folktale riches, fool’s gold; we have no possessions, we do not desire such treasures, nor do we take or gather them. They are of no earthly use to us.
Piskey drolltellers tell of how big people literally lost sight of us as they lost sight of Nature and began to covet and hoard the treasures of the earth for themselves. They belong to no one and are there to be appreciated through sharing – the sun is our gold, the cool stream waters our silver, the fresh green of tree canopies our emeralds, the woodland flowers our jewels. Nature provides our riches, if only we would open our eyes – it is there in front of us, telling beautiful fleeting stories of the seasons to warm the heart and replenish the soul.

St Loy Woods – part 1 of 2We piskies are simple and playful folk of the land who enjoy all that nature provides. In spri...
18/07/2022

St Loy Woods – part 1 of 2
We piskies are simple and playful folk of the land who enjoy all that nature provides. In spring, the perfume of snowdrops, and later bluebells, draws us to St Loy Woods. The white carpet of snowdrops is the nearest thing to snow on this part of the coast, where winters are mild, with hardly even a frost to speak of. Piskey maids brush against the pretty flowers to scent themselves with their heady fragrance which has a kind of magic energy – it changes the mindset and summons a spring in our step after the sluggish cooler temperatures of the winter season such as it is here. It is the simple things in life that matter.
Gnarled tree roots meander above the woodsy earth, balancing the eye with the majestic tree structures above and giving a gnarled character to the woodland valley floor. Betwixt the fragranced pearl and sapphire flowers spring forth the fiddleheads of ferns that unfurl to large canopies, underneath which we play and shelter. Later, the dappled rose-pink flowers of foxgloves, herb robert and red campion add more jewels to Nature’s protective crown as spring moves slowly into summer. A stream weaves its way through this idyll, providing clean fresh water to drink and bathe in. When the heat of summer descends, the green canopy and cool breeze keep the wood fresh. It is a truly magical place. . . to be continued in the next post.

Merry Maidens Stone Circle – part 2 of 2Ding D**g got excited and suggested we tie some of their laces together or put t...
16/07/2022

Merry Maidens Stone Circle – part 2 of 2
Ding D**g got excited and suggested we tie some of their laces together or put thistle burs in the shoes. Having been born in a mine, he seems to have taken on Knocker* spirit energies as a result. But I told him no and decided we would feast in the barley field along the lane.
It was only afterwards that I realised Ding D**g was late to sit down for croust in the barley field and had not mentioned his need for a toilet break again. I do hope he didn’t . . . but if he did, I do apologise to the maids for his behaviour. It’s folk like him who give piskies their reputation for mischief.

* Knockers are little people who live and work in mines and have a reputation for being mean and bad luck, so called because they make knocking noises in the mines, often preceding a mine collapse; some think they cause the adit to collapse, others that they are kind and are warning miners of an imminent collapse so they have time to take evasive action.




Merry Maidens Stone Circle – part 1 of 2 Ding D**g was complaining all the way from Lamorna that his still-damp clothes ...
16/07/2022

Merry Maidens Stone Circle – part 1 of 2

Ding D**g was complaining all the way from Lamorna that his still-damp clothes were chafing him as he walked. Then he said he needed a toilet break. I told him it was just as well we were close to our stopping place for croust at the Merry Maidens Stone Circle.

We climbed through the gate and stopped in our tracks. 🤔 There, at the bottom of the field, were several huge pairs of shoes nestling in the cut grass in a myriad of shapes and colours. Then we spied, sat within the stone circle at the top of the field, a ring of merry young maids who clearly had the same idea. While you cannot see us, the fear of being accidentally trampled on 🤔 prevents us from getting too close, so we did not venture further into the field.
. . to be continued in the next post




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