Stonehenge

Sistere, then the wheel turns and the cycle begins again, the old sun dies and the sun is born a new, the days grow longer as the sun grows stronger, light will return to bathe the land; by seed and stem, by bud and bloom, the fecundity of the earth will be renewed.

The stones were dusted in snow, the grass too had a dusting, enough to create a traditional wintry scene, the ground was frozen and glass like, the air was chilled and icy mists clung to the people and stones alike as they hung low over the land; 200 or 300 people, willingly, happily, joyfully, braved these conditions to gather at Stonehenge in order to welcome the new sun. When the powers that control this most sacred of sites, decreed we could access, the swelling band cheerfully processed to the stones, with the 'Dolmen Grove' beating drums at their head. The ceremony, led by Rollo went well, as always, and was enjoyed by all. Afterwards, folk milled around the stones, making their own personal invocations, meeting friends, examining with awe the majestic megaliths or simply absorbing the atmosphere of a site, a place in the landscape, with a continuity of use and reverence stretching back some 10,000 years into the Mesolithic, when groups of hunter gatherers, still nomadic, erected totems; the post holes of which lay to the North of the stones. The nature and content of the ceremonies may well have changed; but the motivation and reverence of those attending remains the same, and the significance of this place in the landscape endures.

May there be peace throughout the world, so mote it be.