Ham Hill Country Park with a bit extra slipping through from another dimension.

When I moved from London to Peasedown St John I had little idea how much living in London had stunted my being and how much waking up I had to do. In discovering this new world I had moved to I visited Avebury, having never been to a megalithic site before. I took the tourist route, following the signs, and was amazed by the magnitude of the site and its undertaking. I eventually arrived at what are known as the Portal Stones, one of which has a natural seat shaped hollow into which I gratefully plonked my rear end to rest my weary bones. Within moments I began to experience a strange shaking in my stomach, which steadily increased almost to the point of discomfort. What was surprising is that I wasn’t alarmed by this and I sat experiencing it for some time until it gradually faded and ceased. I picked up my camera, made my way to my car and headed home. On the road for just a minute I was suddenly overcome with tears, crying such as I’d never done before. My overwhelming feeling was that the experience I’d just had was a homecoming, a welcome, an opening up and the beginning of a detox from my life in London. My only explanation was that I had been welcomed by what I chose to call ‘The Earthsong’, I had been met by the land in some primal way and I was being welcomed as a part of it.

I’ve been to Avebury and other megalithic sites many times now, plus a couple of Solstice celebrations. I’ve been regaled with stories, recommended books and enthusiastic theories. The simple truth is I don’t care why they are there or how they were built, I enjoy the sense of mystery much more than all the pointless conjecture. Why spoil the wonder? Like a gorgeous sunset, silence in the presence of something awe inspiring is a fine thing.

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