Latest Fieldnotes

we have just returned from a “three barrow” weekend. Coldrum was the last site we visited on a “three barrow” weekend and the most atmospheric. Forgive our ignorance but what is the significance of the ribbons tied to trees nearby? We also noticed this at other sites?

Heart chakra of the solar system, this is my favourite place on earth so far...
Best to climb the Tor in the early dawn – the mists rise and the Tor once again becomes an island (if you do this on may morning latterday druids will appear and blow their horns!)
If you are musically oriented (or a lay chanter), check out the accoustics in the tower...
Wherever you are in the world, you should visit the Tor (and the town) at least once... unforgettable!

Whenever I go to Avebury I just have to dance about like a loon.
I’ve taken a lot of friends there over the years, and it always totally interests me to see what their reactions are, some people click right in and have to start dancing about too, others just don’t seem to get it.
For me it’s simply the most inspiring place to be ever, and I’ll always be thankful to ol’ Jules for introducing me to it through his music.

I love this place. Has anyone else noticed how the trees all seem to bend inwards over the barrow?
I was here with two friends a few years back, and one of them, Marcus, had brought two L-shaped bits of coathanger with him and was trying his hand at divining.
He noticed that when he walked parellel to the front of the barrow, the rods would swing towards each stone and he passed them, and back to the centre during the spaces between. The same thing happened when I tried it, but when Matt had a go, they swung AWAY from the stones instead of towards them.
Have a go next time you’re there – see whether you’re an ‘inny’ or an ‘outy’!

Chun Quoit and Boswens seems connected as through some umbillical cord – you can see one from the other, and even walking to one the other is visible across Woon Gumpus common. Chun has spectacular views towards the Atlantic and all round is gorse and glorious moorland. But it’s a lot smaller than it looks! walking from the layby across the ‘permissive pathway’ (gee, thanks a lot for access to our site !) it looms on the horizon, seeming to get bigger all the time, but really it’s about 6 feet tall, compact, perfectly formed and pretty damn amazing. Boswens. on the other hand, is bigger than it seems. On a slope downhill from a strange aircraft dish-thing, it has an amazing aura. We walked to it last year through horizontal rain and, i tell no lie, just as we reached it the rain stopped as though someone turned off a tap and the sun came out. One of those wierd experiences you get when you catch megalithomania ! this year, it was like meeting an old friend – Boswens standing tall on it’s hill, Chun quoit on the horizon – it was hard to leave. Again, sun blazed down whilst all around was cloud and rain. Boswens has a biosphere of it’s own.

The Gop took my breath away. A few miles from the seaside tack of Rhyl and Prestatyn, I must have passed a hundred times without knowing.

The mystery is that no-one knows why this 15 metre high mound (on top of a hill) was made.

I thought “this is my past” and fell to my knees.

August 1998, Dunadd, Argyll.
We finally met its imposing presence in August ‘98. Driving down the A816 from our campsite to the North of the megalithic wonderland of Kilmartin, the country suddenly opens up across the Moine Mhor with the River Add twisting and turning its way through the great plain of peat and marsh. The road passes Dunadd, but we are Southbound just now and decide to visit the site later in the evening when the car-loads have all emptied away. The name of Dunadd has haunted me for years, I had read much about this sacred hill of the Picts and images of the boar, foot-print and Ogham script have stayed in my minds eye.
Early on an August evening and I’m finally driving to the base of Dunadd and once in the car park I’m doing my best not to just run to the top! I start to walk up the hill deliberately slowly, carefully and quietly-images flick through my mind from the presentation we had seen the day before in Kilmartin House-images of spectral hooded figures. Up through the ridges of fortification we reach the top and I go off looking for the rock carvings managing to ignore the amazing views for the moment. I find the footprint, take off my boots and socks- but alas- my foot is too big! Kat does the same and it’s a perfect fit- the good old Pictish female line! The boar is nearby, but is slowly sinking back into the rock of it’s creation with the hundreds of years of weathering, the snout and front two legs just still remaining. Atop Dunadd after many years of waiting and all I fell is sadness. I maybe secretly expected enlightenment, but no- just sadness. I’m not disappointed- no way- this place is amazing, but....
I go and sit on the Westerly side and watch the River Add. My Pictish serpent tattoo reverberates in recognition of the earthly pattern laid out before me. I could watch this river for an age.

August 1998, Achnabreck Cup-and-Ring Marked Rocks, Argyll.
About 15 years ago I started becoming interested in stone circles, monoliths, cairns etc. and one of the first books I bought was a small paperback (which still goes everywhere with me!) called “Scotland Before History” by Stuart Piggot. I was only really familiar with the ancient monuments around Perthshire’s country and often read about and gazed at many of the photos of other sites. I tried to imagine positions of the monuments in the land in which they are found- Achnabreck is described as a “spectacular area of cup and ring markings on the edge of a forest”.
Now its August 1998 and I find myself in the magickal country of Argyll. We’re battling through clouds of flying ants (believe it or not) up a well trod path next to some fine forest. We made it through the insects and now the country around starts to open up and we are greeted with beautiful views down to the Crinan Canal and the fields and forests around us. Ahead of us I can see them- the area is made just a bit obvious due to the massive stone outcrop being surrounded by the Hisoric Scotland-grey fence and wooden walkways. At first all the designs are half-hidden in the late summer sun, but once I move along the path the shadows start to pick out the circles in the stone and then its as if a great veil is lifted and the whole great stone slab resonates with circles and cup-marks. Before I know it I’m over the fence and crouching beside the rock. I know I should really not be on this side but these places belong to us as much as they are cared for by Historic Scotland. Of course I’m extremely careful not to tread or kneel on the rock face but I manage to stretch across the rock from my crouched perch on the grass. I need to feel the rough stone with my own hands and to trace a circle with my fingers.....

An excellent place – I used to try and engineer all my routes when I was a delivery driver to stop off here, but the best time was after going to a  really dingy club in Brixton ... the experience of guns and general hassle was so traumatising we headed out of Brixton to Rollright for sunrise.

It got to be a bit of a panic, especially as I got lost about 2 miles away as it was getting light, but we just about made it – it was all misty and everything. Smashing ...

Gorse Fawr is wildly different to the nearby Pentre Ifan, but none the worse for that. It is located in the foothills of the Preseli Mountains and can be a bit tricky to find, but it’s worth the effort. With my back to the nearby lane on an overcast day the stones almost seemed to be lost in the backdrop of the mountains, but when (or if) the sun comes out it’s a beautiful place.

By car it’s approached down some pretty narrow lanes, which were full of ‘fun runners’ when I visited it, so it’s worth taking your time.

The bloke who did my piercing used to be involved with the Temple of Psychic Youth/Genesis, and he told me some *really* hair-raising stories about the rituals that the Temple had at Arbor Low a few years ago ...

... he had a really rough psychic cross carved into his side, allegedly done by Genesis in a fenzy at the circle ... and such a peaceful place!

A fantastic place, a little tricky to find, but once you’re up there, the whole valley just pans out down in front of you. Awesome, but watch out for the tricky stream (not mentioned in TMA) – it nearly had us, but not, embarrassingly, the surprisingly agile pensioners who followed us over the slippery rocks.

It’s going to be turned into a quarry :-O

pages.zoom.co.uk/~nineladies/

The nearest site to my home (I think!) is a delight to visit, especially on a clear evening. The five knolls sit on the edge of the hills which abutt Dunstable, and sat on the Knolls an amazing panorama slaps the senses silly. To the west, Ivinghoe beacon, the start of the Ridgeway path, then over fields and hedges to Dunstable and then the M1 lurking under a cloud of smog to the east. It feels so free and clear up here – as though the pollution and congestion of the land below are not of the world on the downs. And behind the knolls – surely a grove of trees ? if not, it certainly looks and feels like one!

This is just the most amazing place ... drove up a tortuous, potholed farm track until at the pylon. There it was – and what a circle! I had visited 20 or so in the last week, but they had nothing on this one. Enormous stones, the recumbent propped on a layer of earth to prevent it falling inward. And two of the biggest flankers i’d seen all week! The atmosphere here at sunset is hard to describe... I sat by the left flanker and watched an Easyjet plane take off, bank sharply and fly over my head at not more than 500 feet – the contradiction between ancient and new is palpable here. The trees in Julian’s picture have recently been removed and/or thinned, opening out the views and creating an airy atmosphere. I visited 5 times in a week – my favourite RSC of all. Get yourself there !

I have now visited Avebury five times and have sat watching peoples reactions to the stones for hours. It is definetely a female site in that they are nearly all drawn to touching and embracing the stones like long lost relatives. Males tend to stand back and admire with little touching apart from pointing out various details to their friends. Kids don’t seem to know whether they are male or female. The sheep don’t seem to bother.
My first impression was not about the stones or the circles but how big the sky is!
Everyone should visit before it is fenced off totally by our guardians.

Sorry, but I just had to climb it and when I got to the top I just started dancing – I have no idea why and have told everybody since and they now think that I am weird!

Theres not much to add to TMA’s entry – only to say that if you’re in Scotland you MUST visit this site. It’s such a cool little circle. It’s partly in a field, partly on a verge,has a B-road running through it, and has been ‘enhanced’ with concrete and steel- and yet it just rises above the last 2 millenia and KNOWS it. awesome.

(Just take a reflective jacket and be prepared to dive for cover)

Whatever you do, do not follow the signs to the official car park, unless you fancy a 2.5 mile trek down the Ridgeway. Check out your OS map and you’ll see there’s a small lane midway between the site and the car park- Once at the site, you’ll find a great longbarrow , although not on the scale of West Kennet, it’s somehow more inspiring. Set in a copse of tall trees, the only sound is that of the wind sighing through the trees, and a feeling of total tranquility pervades the whole area-forget what I said earlier-the long walk makes it all the more worthwhile-go early and forget for a few moments the teeming mass of human life thats all too close.

7 Feb 2000 – Ian, Andrea, Bart and Claire

“Let Me Speak To The Driver” indeed.

Well this driver shouts back

“East! East!”

Beware of Cope’s directions on this one, go east not west the track is on the summit of the road on the left and is very rutted. You can just about park at the top of the track if you don’t mind losing your car to the sheep.

Well we found it in the end. And a rainy day turned to sunshine as we arrived so perhaps Cope knew it would be so and that’s why he led 4 damp people a not-so-merry-dance in such a small car.

21/12/1999

Not the best morning for travelling due to the only snowfall of the entire winter falling on the Solstice.

Arriving before dawn, I was supposed to meet Bart here but despite using back roads and mobiles we failed so I had the place to myself with fresh snow and a friendly robin sitting in the hedge.

A break from reality – early morning peace, a special moment to myself before fighting my way to work back up the M40.

I performed in a school play here once when I was 12. I was supposed to be the Nordic King who was pretty revved about his own situation somewhere in Scandanavia : “This land is too small for a king such as I, tell me what can i do?” is about the only line I can remember. So, he figures he should go and invade England and ends up in Derbyshire (?). Anyway, in front of the entire school I had to sing and stomp around in my home-made cape and helmet, until a witch (played by a girl called Kate) turned me and my mates into stones, which you can see here.

Check out the crow action round this one! The circle is positioned in the center of a circle of hills with a breach and long view opposite the ‘entrance’ to the circle. In the distance is a wind farm and behind you is the farmers farm. Looking at this view there’s a hill to the right quite close by that takes about 10 minutes or so to climb and has a trig point at the top. You get a really good view of the circle in relation to the natural bowl formed by the surrounding hills and the wind whips its wings through here – loads of crows getting off on that. Having a great time they are. The circle itself is close knit, though some of the stones are diminished or toppled. Great place and well worth a visit.