What's it all about? Why this love of ours for standing stones and wells and chiselled spirals? What are we trying to see (or perhaps what is it that just keeps resonating with us). I don't know, and I'm not trying to be confrontational, I'm just asking what you think it's all about (and if I don't get a decent answer I'm gong back to collecting Victorian postage stamps :-)
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S

The roots of modern society, possibly.
P

Victorian stamps, megaliths, train numbers - all the same compulsion to collect. Just that old hunter/gatherer itch that we just can't scratch.
T

For me it's about understanding how the people who formed the first settlements, after the hunter-gatherer epoch, developed their beliefs, and what drove them to perform feats of engineering that, on the face of it, would appear to be beyond their knowledge. I also find it incredible to view the works of "art" that they have produced, be it amber-beaded necklaces, flint arrowheads, gold cups, etc. To me the people of the Neolithic and Bronze Age are one of the Wonders of the World. I'd love to get into their heads.
Regards,
TE.
N

Things have changed so much, so quickly, in the last couple of hundred years. We now live our lives indoors - from the house to the car to the supermarket to the office. This indoor life, fuelled on coco pops, pot noodles and ready meals, gaudily decorated with commercials, soap operas and MTV, seems so ordinary, but is in fact obscure and totally removed from the bulk of human experience over the last fifty thousand years.
For me, these works of stone and earth say something about what it really is to be human. To visit these old places is to share a set of experiences which humans have enjoyed and endured throughout the length of their existence as a species. The fresh blast of the wind and rain, the roughness of stone, the brightness of a full moon or the perfect dark of a tomb. It's not just about imagining how things were millenia ago, it's also about realising that many things have never changed.
W
It's like something that's just out of reach. Like Eternal, I would love to get into their heads.
Growing up in Amesbury has something to do with it too.
V

Alfie.
M

Hi littlestone.
For me, the natural landscape - the heavens/universe gives me a full-on psychic and physical stiff-oh.
I adore the smell of lichen and moss. Rain over the moor. Water in the forest. Water on stone, sun on soil, dry leaves and loam. The humming buzzing vastness and the silent secret small places alike.
And then our ancestors threw some shapes which kind of make sense, if only to the poet or the artist within us.
The archaeologist is the very smaller part form me.
It's the breathing, focusing part I need, and of course the connection to my forbears who smelled, felt and saw the same things as I - only with the luxury of time and proximity unabated.
N

Apologies for this posting – it's rather long. But this thread really set me thinking today, and I eventually sat down and put pen to paper. Maybe someone will be interested, but if not you can always just skip it!
In my earlier reply I indicated that ancient monuments are an antidote to much of what is objectionable about modern life inside the corporate whirlwind. Undoubtedly, this is only one of a variety of treasures which these places offer the senses and the imagination. Which of these treasures is most precious will depend on the individual. But I would like to leave the task of identifying these different features to consider a tangentially related topic.
It is the idea that we might need an antidote to modern life which fascinates me. The problem seems to be that the timetable for modern life is set by non-human sources. As we have moved away from a rural outdoor life, seasonal rhythms have been forgotten. The difference between summer and winter means little more too many than the difference between a centrally heated or an air-conditioned office. Until very recently, however, winter was a period of real hardship and privation, making the arrival of spring, bursting at the seams with brand new life, and then summer with its times of warmth and plenty, that much more keenly felt. We have even forgotten the rhythm of day and night. Where our ancestors would have risen with the dawn to make the most of the daylight, we usually sleep through the earliest hours until we are woken to the obnoxious sound of a digital alarm clock. We then extend our waking period into the starkly lit, electric hours of night. And what do the rhythms of the night sky – the most grand and mysterious of all – mean to the city dweller? The movements of the stars and the planets are all but forgotten, hidden behind a screen of buzzing sherbet-orange streetlamps and carbon dioxide emissions.
Okay, enough. None of you needs my amateur romanticism to perceive this aspect of the character of modern life. The point I started off with was that ancient places seem somehow to provide the texture, the simple rugged beauty, and the sense of permanence which some of us crave. I am struck by how widespread this urge to transcend modern life is. Every day, ramblers flock to the hills, desperate to feel the blast of the elements; climbers take to the cliffs and high places, seeking the life and death thrill which has always been part of human life in its natural environment; reconstructions of historical battles are staged; traditional dances, songs and stories are kept alive. Is it too far fetched to suggest that all these activities, like ancient monuments, can offer a taste of what is timeless within human experience? And that this is why we love them?
Ironically the commercial machine has not been blind to this trend. I suppose that wherever there is a desire, be it material or spiritual, there is a market. Every pub name with a 'Ye Olde' prefix and every sprawling development of holiday homes alongside 'quaint' old villages marks the attempt to cash in on our desire to escape the profit orientated mindset which does all the cashing in!
Fortunately, life goes on. Even in the densest urban environment you can find some green avenue where the wind still speaks its ancient language through the branches of the trees, and always the human heart beats to the same rhythm in our chests as it used to in those of our ancestors. There are many roads down which the imagination can wander into the past. A fascination with ancient monuments is one. A love of folk traditions is another. But it seems to me that what these places and pastimes offer is not simply access to the past, but even more importantly, they offer links with the past which are as alive today as they ever were. I do not seek to understand the Ancients themselves so much as I seek to understand that we are the same as them, and that our lives and our home – this planet – are as beautiful and as vital as they have been throughout the ages.
Any comments, suggestions, quibbles, qualms and outright disagreements much appreciated.
B
Well, many people do like to get back to nature, and going out to see the stones is a lovely and refreshing treat, as many eloquent posts here make clear.
The thing about the stones IN PARTICULAR is that they are the first evidence we can see of our roots. People lived a long time before the modern rat race (from which we need refreshing) began, but most arcaheological sites of life before the megaliths are boring. There's really nothing to see. Confer the tree holes marked in the parking lot at Stonehenge. I mean, do you see how big around they are? Can you imagine what, if the folks erected entire tree trunks there, that must have looked like? Those puppies would have reached to the sky, and erecting something that tall and thin would have been as big or bigger a feat than Stonehenge itself.
But what have we got? Three spots of paint most people never see. The stones, though, or Silbury Hill, ah, THOSE are hard to miss. And we all know, somewhere in the backs of our minds, that the stones (and associated things) are the beginnings of modern life, as opposed to the long "dark" of the Old Stone Age.
So, we go to the stones thinking, vaguely perhaps, "This is where it all began, out here in Nature, people at one with the elements, surrounded by all this beauty; where have we gone wrong, look at what we've lost, think what it could be like..." etc. etc. (Which of course is total BeeEss. The Neolithics were trying to CONQUER nature for the first time in human history, rather than living in "harmony" with it. They were substututing human concerns about power and ancestry for those of acceptance and eternity. But that's another thread.)
Bob's your Uncle.