"That night, I walked up to Barclodiad-y-Gawres with only the Maglite and a bottle of Jenning's Crag Rat for company. Sitting on the cold cement nub at the roof of the capsule, I looked across the Irish Sea, listening to the waves and the wind and watching the shadowy phosphorence of the ocean as it lashed the cliffs. Below me in their silent, dark chamber, the stones of Barclodiad-y-Gawres were palpably present. I thought about their pecked out, 4,500 year old carvings, and remembered Jane saying "They're just like Gavrinis." and a postcard she had sent me of those remarkable stones. Time slipped for a while. Out on that headland, there was only the night, carvings, stones, cliffs, sea, carvings, sky, a star, wind, clouds, darkness, carvings, Gavrinis far to the east, and the Irish tradition far to the west. The importance of this place was very clear. It felt like both the end and the centre of the world at once. Someone had pecked out those marks so many millennia before and yet their resonance with the world and the elements were as fresh as if they had been made that day. The remote wholeness and connectivity of the place was total. The ancestors were to hand."

treaclechops http://www.themodernantiquarian.com/user/1765/weblog/0/50520