When I lived in the area, I used to love to visit it at any time of the day or night, but particularly on warm, sultry days like today.
Local legend has it that the infamous King John was hunting nearby and spied a beautiful girl bathing in it's edge. He sent his riders to fetch her for him, and - in trying to escape by swimming to the centre - she drowned. Since that day, no bird has ever sung on the trees that overhang the lake. 'King John' was blamed for all sorts of unfortunate events, however, so I would not take this story too seriously.
Although birds can be heard singing nearby, I have never heard a bird singing in the overhanging trees though, so there is something in the legend... maybe. The water is crystal clear and shallow. It seems to be mineral rich too, as encrusted branches can be seen on the floor of the pool. I am told that about once every few years, the water turns blood red, commemorating the death of the maiden and - although the colour must derive from an influx of iron minerals - it is not the only sacred spring to run red on a regular basis.
It is one of the most peaceful and healing places that I have ever visited, and whether or not you believe in such things, the magical nature of the spot cannot be denied.
Many years ago, I went there in a state of confusion and depression about a particular problem in my life at that time. I sat at the edge of the pool for a long while, staring into the limpid water. Instinctively, I picked up a small stone from the bank, then cast it into the middle. As the ripples slowly approached me where I sat, I knew that I would - in some way - find a solution to the problem.
When the first ripple reached me, sure enough, mental peace followed in it's wake. Each successive wave reinforced the next, and as the approaching ripples bounced gently off the bank and returned to the centre, they took with them the toxins and neutralised them in the water of the pool, leaving me washed and dried. The problem was still there, but I was better equipped to deal with it and accept it for what it was. That is what is known by a 'healing spring' I think. It is not always a case of driving your wheel-chair into the water, then abandoning it by walking out on your own two feet.
As I write this, Her Indoors has just started vacuum cleaning with a bloody noisy Dyson, about six feet behind my head. Oh to be at the Silent Pool...