Latest Fieldnotes

One of the first ‘real’ monuments I met firsthand. Around 1985, Summer on the Lleyn. Found it by virtue of a  tourist map, which also indicated that the local shop held leaflets about the monument – I just received frowns and dirty looks when i enquired!

I wasn’t expecting such a vast site – again, this was a first for me and the sense of scale and feeling of ‘place’ was immense. Disregarding the ‘sympathetic’ restoration by Wimpey during a lunch-break, the monument bleeds antiquity.

I had loaded a high definition film with the intention of getting some shots before approaching the site, and the sun was well over her midpoint by the time i reached the place. The massive oak rustled in the rising breeze, throwing a shifting shadowplay over the backs of the crouched stones.
It was interesting to think that the tree, already several times thicker than my waist, had seen many summers than I could imagine, and yet compared to Ardudwy, its lifetime was a brief crowded hour of furious growth.

Taking the shots between the two dolmens, and looking ‘in’ to the cramped space, feeling the stones grind and complain beneath my clumsy feet, i had the distinct impression of the genius loci and almost felt myself observed in turn.
w

Visited this place around 1985, beautiful summer day and the first thing that struck me was the colours. The Foxgloves around the monument contrasted sharply with the blooms of lichen and moss on the uprights and the sun beamed down onto the roof of the dolmen warming the great stone.

Shame that it was coralled with barbed wire, it would have been cool and peaceful among the nettles and the long grass beneath.

Came across this lonely stone while tripping around the Lleyn. Had just visited Coetan Arthur and almost missed this stone. By chance I peered through a locked gate around the chapel graveyard and there it stood, arrogantly erect and defiantly posed next to the path from the gate as a poignant reminder to the christian flock. The holes near the top seem to stare in cyclopean ire as it towers in all its pagan beauty like a lynchpin arresting the flow of time . The chapel almost seems to sit apologetically in its shadow.

A wonderful and evocative ‘lith, well worth searching out!
Bill

Barclodiad-y-Gawres was the first site I visited on New Years Eve 31/12/00. A fierce wind howled from the sea and forced us to resort to hands an knees, as a slimy foam whipped across the headland.

The site was worth the short but tricky trek. It is a shame about the gates, but the weather was just like the book, and cleared the head ready for the New Year.

This is an amzing site and one of my favourites. We actually walked from the opposite way than the track leading up to it. We walked down from the hills and main road higher up which is about 2 miles through a couple of farms and fields of calm and inquisitive sheep. the public footpath is not well posted but its an adventure to say the least, I do enjoy landowners who remove signs, plant mad dogs in your way and add barbed wire to stiles! never mind it makes the experience more exciting! it is worth it when you catch site of the circle from high up and then lose it again until you walk round the back of the farm and walk down the track. it is a beautiful place and very peaceful, not a quick visit site, it holds many secrets and captures you to stay longer...I started dreaming of returning before I’d even left.
A friend of mine reckons the ‘missing’ central stone that Burl and Julian refer to in their books, is in a farm yard 1/2 a mile down hill, but I can’t say that I saw this.
A must for those that truly love these sites, but one to keep quiet about too.

A fantastic circle , full of great views and great mystery. bagpipes? screaming shepherds? We arrived and out of nowhere came 6 HUGE hounds, they bounded around and became abit scary at first so we retreated to the car (like big scaredy cats). they bounded off so we again got out...they turned up again!This happened afew times I just ignored them after awhile, it was all quite strange as there was no-one around for miles, it seemed as if they were guarding it. This circle is a really beautiful, quite ignored site (people just tend to drive past). I wasn’t expecting it to be so well preserved and it brightened up a cold windy october morning.
fantastic!

I found these beings far more magical than the Rollright Stones when I visited in summer 2001...you can view them without having to walk on plastic mesh & without the knowledge that some warden is watching you from a hut!

Enclosed by an iron fence on the edge of an otherwise unassuming cornfield they make lonely but inspiring figures. Turn up on a summer evening, sit down & put ‘In the Wake of Poseidon’ by King Crimson on yer discman. Magic!

Finally got around to visiting Belas Knap yesterday, even though it is fairly local & it was well worth the effort! Just be warned that the climb never seems to end; after getting up the slippery mud bank you’re faced with a trek through two fields & woodland before the barrow suddenly appears from nowhere behind a stone wall.

Unfortunately you can’t get inside the chambers proper as restoration work has blocked them off. I also agree that whilst this was probably necessary, it has also detracted from the feel of authenticity. The obligatory ‘tourist info’ board was pretty lacklustre in terms of information – being new to the subject I had no idea the shape of the barrow was supposed to represent the female form. My 11 year old bro-in-law seemed in awe of the thing & we grabbed five minutes sat in what there is of one of the chamber entrances...I haven’t experienced calm & stillness like that for a very long time. The view from the top of the hill is equally memorable, just make sure you wear the appropriate footwear as the Cotswold Way is notoriously well-trodden!

Back again. I’d flown to Aberdeen for work for the day, finished early and there was only one place to go. I’ve never been so smartly dressed when marching halfway up a hill.

The visionarys at Historic Scotland have now renamed this site ‘Standingstones Stone Circle’ probably on the account of the nearby wood being called Standingstones Wood. So named, I would have said for the pair of standing stones in it on the other side of the hill....oh well.

I spent an hour up here as it got dark, and all though the noise was incessant, tractors, aircraft and those bloody helicopters it doesn’t matter. Walk slowly around the stones, and look at each one-think of the thousands of years they’ve stood, and the sights they’ve seen. The ‘modern’ world is only transient, and in a place like this irrelevant.

Get up here as soon as you can-you won’t regret it.

PS The airport has a wide range of standing stones on islands and petrol stations etc-anybody know if they have any history, or are they merely megalithic Ground Force jobbies?

I visited this site for the fist time in Jan 2002 and was completely blown away by it. To be honest I wasn’t expecting much during the drive there but the steep climb up the road to the car park (described in TMA) really sets the scene. There is plenty to see including one of the finest Dolmens you’ll see anywhere (the photo of said dolmen in TMA far from does it justice) which looks incredibly different depending on which side you look at it from. I can’t enthuse about this place enough, it’s got the lot. Menhirs, (several!) a stone circle and a brilliant dolmen plus breathtaking scenery, go if you can!

PS Dont let the pylons put you off!

Don’t be fooled by the postcards. The Cheesewring is not balanced without a little help. If I remember right, you can see a couple of rods driven into the lower base by some smaller stones, which were put in when the silly sods blew up half the hill to make westminster bridge etc. Old postcards are interesting, as there is, then isnt, then is again this small pile acting as a sort of wedge, off to one side at the narrowest point. Hard to see how it all stood up without them. If I ever get a scanner, I’ll put my small old postcard collection up on the site.

This is a Harvest Hill, very close to Lewes train station in East Sussex. It looks exactly like a minature Silbury Hill, and its use would have been very similar.
The hill is situatued next to an ruined priory, and has had a small corner of it cut off to accomodate a bowling green. This missing portion has meant that the original spiral path to the summit can no longer be followed as it once would have been, although there is still a path...
There is a wonderful view from it’s top, which is still a very tranquil place, despite being almost in the middle of a town!
The top of the hill contains a post hole, and each easter, the christians come and place a large cross in this hole. Shortly after, the pagans come and remove the cross and leave their own offerings. As far as i can tell this is a yearly occurance!
There do not seem to be a celebrations at the tump on Lunassa, which would have been its original purpose.

sorry for no map reference – i will try to add it later -it is basically in the town of Lewes, by the station – easy to find!

This is a wonderful place. Above the long man there are a series of ancient burial mounds, in various styles dating from different periods. This place has been sacred for a very long time. Local legend says that there was once a goddess on the hill next to the long man who is now lost.

Also worth checking out is the 5,000+ year old Yew tree in the local churchyard. This is truly an amazing tree, and probably predates all around it (except the hill!) and marks the spot of the original shrine in this area.

Additional Note: Murlough Stone (J 392343)

Just a short distance away, up the lane which you can see beside Wateresk Dolmen, is a granite standing stone. Two minute walk (max) & it’s on the right-hand-side just past a bunch of buildings.

Another piece in the Murlough puzzle me thinks.

Beautiful granite (as always) Dolmen, sited on the bank of the Carrigs River before it pours into Dundrum Bay.

It’s beside the wonderful Murlough National Nature Reserve, looking up to Slieve Donard- the higest Mountain in Ulster, with 2 Cairn sites, & towards Dundrum with it’s Norman fortifications – which was originally the site of a sizeable Celtic hill-top rath commanding the entrance to the bay.

Hugely significant area for spiritual (Slieve Donard most definately played an important role to the locals), economic (seafood rich bay) & military reasons (see previous).

Drive from Newcastle in the direction of Dundrum & stop at the Murlough carpark. Just walk up the Old Road, which turns off to the left, & it’s in the second field on the left hand-side.

On first arriving at the Badger Stone I must admit I was a bit disapointed. I just didn’t get it. I was tired after excitedly stomping straight across the open moorland from the mound above the waterfall near the White Well’s car park, so I decided to lie down and rest on the bench for a while.

A few minutes later I felt the sun streaming across my face, and so jumped up to take a look at the stone. I couldn’t help but laugh, every last feature was illuminated before me, my disapointment turned to overwhelming joy as I poured over this wonder. The sun stayed with me for 3/4 hour in which time I found myself narrowing in more and more to the surface of the rock. From the initially confusing bigger picture, I soon realised that to appreciate the stone you must get in close, and forget EVERYTHING you know about ‘art’ appreciation. Ideas streamed through my mind about what the stone represented, I thought about ideas I’d read that this was a kind of map – then I started to see the stone as a storytelling device – representing long forgotten places, people, henges, burial sites, hills, events etc. – in short a means of recording both temporal and spacial ‘things’ in an organic record. Of course any ideas about the purpose will inevitably remain just that, but just to contemplate is an amazing experience.

What can I say about Rombald’s Moor. I’ve only been a couple of times, both in the last couple of weeks. I don’t know why ‘cause it’s probably the closest major site to my home. On the first visit I headed straight for the Twelve Apostles. It was getting late, and I was stuck for time. So for my latest visit (9/2/2) I got there nice and early in the morning, and spent a full day. I ended up spending a lot of my time huddled over the sexy Badger Stone, with a tour of some of the other attractions to follow.

All I can say is this has made my love of all things megalithic even more intense. The whole moor is like a playground for the imagination. A dreamlike quality pervades as you travel from stone to stone. After a while I found myself putting my map and list of grid refs away and just looking, the place is literally full of rock art.

It is a very powerful place.

On the downside a lot of the stones are vandalised. I can understand a need to leave a mark behind, almost in the tradition of these stones themselves – but there are plenty of unmarked rocks scattered across the moor. It just seems like people want to destroy this wonder on their doorstep. Perhaps if folk were educated correctly, and taught to have a sense of pride in this, their true heritage, then maybe it wouldn’t happen, who knows.

A word of warning: Be prepared for strange looks from the runners and walkers... :)

This is slightly hard to find unless you remember Julian’s comment that it has a signpost handily situated next to it. Even then the tree is a more useful guide.

Both ends of the barrow are still present, but the middle is completely gone. The non-chambered end has been utilized to make part of a wall, but is still 3-4 ft high.

A nice peaceful site with views of the barrow cemetary and hardy’s monument on the ridge above, to the north and the sea to the south.

Kudos to the man with the mullet and his family, who I met there.

Visited 01/09/01
Strangely depressing circle surrounded by a barbed wire fence and stinging nettles. Definately moved from its original location to the west(?) and containing stones possibly from an original stone circle, stone rows and/or a chambered long barrow.

Wonderful views of portland and chesil beach redeem its extremely poor condition, but its neglected and almost downtrodden state make it a circle to be pitied.

It has had a varying number of stones over its time, I counted between 10 & 15.

We visited Long Meg on the 9th of Feb,2002,in the driving rain.The first things which struck us were the beautiful,old trees,with fluttering prayer ties.One of the oaks in the circle has recently lost a large,central bough,the remain of which lies,shattered,at its feet.It still retains its vitality,though,even if the splintered,yellow wood looks shocking.
The road through the circle didn’t upset me,the way I had expected it to,as its curve gave a crescent moon quality to the place.The different types of stone,some smooth,some gnarly,some jagged,some pockmarked or crisscrossed with quartz,got my mind to thinking about the mystery of our island’s “erratics”,something which stone circles draw me back to,again and again.The gathering of these odd stones seems to be as important as the structured they are placed in.
Long Meg,herself,felt like an add-on,much younger than her so-called daughters.I,too,felt that there was a missing partner.Whatever,this is a special site.Not even the bitter cold,and driving rain,could disguise that.Visit Long Meg.I am lucky to be working nearby for 2 weeks,in March.Maybe I will get the chance to see if the stone my daughter named the “Sunbathing Stone"is aptly named.See you there!

On Saturday 2nd Feb, on an awayday from the family, I set off in search of West Kennett. The drive from Thame in Oxfordshire took in the Blowing Stone, a cute little number stranded at the bottom of someone’s front garden, and then a lightning stop at the Uffington White Horse – not enough time for Wayland’s Smithy this time.. The journey to Avebury was enough in itself. The visual build up along the Ridgeway is amazing.. every step of the way the landscape reveals itself, pulling you along and then suddenly you approach the edge of the henge, and hello ladies, here we are! I think this was my third visit to Avebury but through taking this particular route, I was for the first time able to get a profound sense of the sheer scale of the journey people must have undertaken to get here, not to mention the awesome ceremonial significance of this ancient landscape. Unfortunately, the rain was beating down badly, so nothing to do but welly up and stride forth! I hadn’t had time to see West Kennett before, so was determined to get there sheeting rain or no! I walked through the circle and made my way along the Avenue. I’ve always loved these avenue stones in particular, their individual characters so distinct. Getting more soaked every minute, I hurried on towards W.K. not realising quite how far from the circle it actually is ( well not that far really!) As I turned the corner and saw the mother of mounds that is Silbury, I knew there wasn’t far to go. By the time I reached W.K. I was hugely wet but very happy. What a phenomenal spot to put this place! A giant footstep away from Silbury and the beautiful stone at the entrance shielding you from all the wind and rain.. As I ventured inside, I was not alone, a group of people had gathered inside to celebrate Imbolc, trust me to chose today! No disrespect though, they were a nice bunch, but although I stayed and chatted for a while, I kind of felt like I was intruding and so didn’t really have the chance to tune in to the West Kennett experience, maybe next time! So after “drying out” HAHA! for a short while, I headed back up across the hill, stood alone on a level with Silbury, WONDERFUL! and had my moment.. I must say a valuable lesson in the need for serious waterproofs was learned as I do not recommend trying to change out of sodden clothes in your car, thank goodness it was dark!! Roll on those summer nights! LISSY x

8/02/02
I’ve been here before, sometimes just sitting in the parked car in the rain. I came here this morning, walking from the town of Denny 2 miles to the west. It was a bit overcast, but so warm, and you could smell the soil and the grass for the first time this year. It felt like the first day of spring and my serotonin was doing it’s feel good best.
The smaller, less conical hill is fenced off, and I left it there as there were cemetery workers keeping a suspicious eye on me. I walked around the larger more formed hill to the SE and took it in from all angles. What a site!
It’s over 20metres high and 60 metres diameter at the base and has steep sides and a flattish top.
I climbed on top of the larger hill and watched the maturing Carron flow east and listened to the rushing of the motorway behind me. Despite all the pylons, the M-way and b-roads there is something very special and calming about sitting up on the flattened summit. I sat for ages until a funeral procession arrived in the modern cemetery below me, and at that I left.
I crossed the bridge and walked down the south side of the Carron for a few hundred yards to try and figure where the old ford was. I found an old industrial wier, so I gave up on the ford.
Walking on to Larbert on the B905 I turned back and realised that this was the direction I should have travelled from. Coming from Larbert on this road, you turn a corner and the valley floor opens up before you with the SE hill resting magically and with prominence, like a small Silbury.

I lived in the area during my childhood and must confess the whole site
feels dead.During my youth many teenagers would congregate at weekends for rave parties around the circle because it was secluded ,surrounded by trees with the circle in a little glade in the centre. These
parties continued for some time during which firewood was taken from the trees to make fires and before long the whole place was just an area of burnt fire circles and dead trees. During one party some stupid traveller bloke, being pissed on brew, reversed his car/lorry into the heel stone (or fiddler) and broke it. They ruined this site for everyone. It used to be a wonderful place to go at night and watch the stars after a pint in the Flying Childers.
mind you at least the walls surrounding the stones have gone(yes walls
i said!)

One small thing that julian says above which is not confirmed is that
the long stones were standing. This has never been proven and in fact the earth below the stones was found not to ‘be deeply disturbed’ therefore implying that they have always been recumbant
Oh and don’t forget to walk widdershins thrice around the bank for a healthy life (according to my great gran who used to live at the farm
when she was very young!)

I once decided to take two of my kids, aged about 11 and 9 at the time, the two boys, for a two or three day trek up the ridgeway, starting at Avebury. On the first day whilst still at Avebury, we got completely soaked. The next morning the same. So we dediced to give up. We only had one pushbike for transport and we live in Newbury 25 miles away. Oh and we had the dog. So the plan was I had to cycle back and collect a car to collect the boys and the dog.

It was still raining and we needed shelter and safety for two young boys. The only place .... West Kennett Longbarrow I thought....
The boys had been before but they were too young to remember. The youngest one wasn’t too impressed with his lodgings for a few hours... He said, “I don’t want to stay in this stupid cave”. Anyway I managed to persuade him that it was dry..ish and it was a spirtual place and he would be safe there. I didn’t dare tell him about what was buried there.

I was quite worried about leaving them, but I had no choice. The ride and a car were the only options. The train was a long walk and infrequent.

I set off in the driving rain.... 25 miles of slog on a mountain bike. I’m was fit , but used to that sort of distance on a nice summers day on a road bike.

3 hours later I returned. As if by magic the sun beamed down. As I walked up the to the Longbarrow my two kids were dancing aroung in the sun, as happy as larry.
The dog had stayed in the Logbarrow for most of the time. She had moved the bits of hay inside and made a nest in one of the chambers, maybe she got the vibes and thought that this was the end, although she wan’t upset or frighteneed when I returned and neither were the kids.

Moonhead