Esther Dean on dowsing....

Here's an excerpt from an 2001 article on Esther Dean, pioneer of no dig gardening, where she discusses her use of dowsing.....

"On this sunny morning, the fabled gardener is waiting on her front porch, pet magpie on her shoulder, looking exactly as if she’s stepped out of the pages of a children’s storybook. She’s the classic image of the fairy godmother: bright eyes, apple-cheeked face, hair swept into a neat bun, her manner and figure warm and cuddly.

As she shows you around her garden, introducing each plant with its own little story or homily, there’s a sense of wonder in her expression, in every sentence.

She disappears into the kitchen to get the morning tea, and just as you’re half expecting her to pop back out having sprouted wings and a wand, she does something equally fey. “Do you know about dowsing?” she inquires brightly, plonking down a dish of her favourite dowsing pendulums and various shells, stones, brooches, crystals and rings on strings.”It’s truly so helpful... I’m a member of the British Society of Dowsers,” she adds, producing a booklet.”See all the eminent people who belong to it, all the initials and qualifications after their names. We’re not cranks, you know. Dowsing is an ancient skill, old as time.”

Soon she’s demonstrating her technique, lifting her favourite pendulum, a wooden spindle on a string and suspending it over a plate of apple tea bun. “ Is this bun good for us to eat?” she asks the pendulum, and it immediately starts rotating in a wide circle. “That means it’s positive, or feminine,” she explains. “What about this arrowroot biscuit?” The pendulum remains still. “  Hmmmph. That means its neutral, another one of those dastardly genetically modified products that have to be stopped! You’re looking sceptical dear....”

 “Yes, because it looks like you’re moving your hand to make the pendulum swing like that,” I blurt out. “ Let me try it.”

Doubting journalist holds pendulum quite still over apple tea bun, declaring, “See, it’s not moving!” Leaves hand in place, turns head to look at Deans in the ye and continue the conversation. Then, lo and behold, the blessed pendulum starts whizzing in a circle over the bun, just as it had done for her.

“I don’t believe this.” I say laughing at the absurdity of it, then test the biscuit.

“Concinced now?” queries Deans, preening. “ You have great dowsing skills, dear, you must use them every day of your life. Come her...”

Her kitchen is cluttered with plates of vegetables, bowls of fruit, mushrooms, croissants, salmon and many other things. Above the sink are three wooden pegs, painted red, on string-her dowsing pegs for shopping. “I test everything before I buy it.” She swings the peg over the tomatoes:”Are these good to eat?” Then each field mushroom: “Is this good?...No that ones trouble, out it goes, into the compost. And this cheese?”

How do people react in shops when they see her swinging a peg over a banana? “Oh” her eyes widen, “some look at me as if Im a bit odd. Others ask, ‘What are you doing?’ I reply, ‘Just testing to see if it’s good – do you want to learn how? They usually say no thank you, or shy away.

“I use dowsing when I buy anything, like clothes, shoes. I ask,’is this colour or style right for me?”

Doesn’t it take forever to do the shopping like this? “Oh no, Im very quick at it, years of practie. Here’s a tip – tie your dowsing peg on a piece of old pantyhose around your neck. That way you can keep it hidden, then stretch it out when you need it, and you never lose it.”

The pet magpie struts into the kitchen as if it owns the place, and pecks at the fridge door. “Oh you want to be fed Maggie,” sings Deans, opening the fridge and offering a ball of minced meat to the waiting beak."