Though it wasn't cold, the sun couldn't be seen through a thick blanket of grey cloud, the air was damp, the wind blew; yet folk still gathered at the Stones; Rollo said lovely, as is his way, King Arthur shouted a bit, Dice George offered mumbled heckles whilst remembering a fallen Stonehenge supporter, noddies nodded, drummer drummed as the collection of brightly coloured, babbling nutbars, Druids, Pagans, misfits and the contingent of curious American visitors all welcomed in the spring. The sun may not have afforded the gathered Celebrants warmth, yet there was warmth, you could feel it amongst those ancient megaliths. Seasons greetings, a hope for burgeoning good fortune and a beautiful spring.
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