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Standing Stones
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We reached our first destination, a cattle grid denoting the beginning of some bleak moorland . . . disembarking from the car, the wind fairly whipped around, and the chill factor was obvious. I was just very pleased to be wearing my new bush hat, which went a long way to keeping me toasty warm. After mooching along the farm track for a bit, we could see the first of our objectives, a pair of leaning stones.
By now, we were well into open country, the moor and the sheep sweeping away from us. This not only gave the stones an air of bleak romantic solitude, it also gave Rupert a miserable time in the relentless freezing wind. After enthusiastically taking some photos of the stones with the pattern of linking pebbles someone had placed at their bases, I suddenly remembered I had a useful stripy blanket in my rucksack. "How do you fancy an Iron Age cloak?" I asked Rupe, folding it appropriately and throwing it round his shoulders. He still looked chilled to the marrow, and my hat was getting in the way, so I dropped it on his head with a flourish.
Strangely, he didn't look so much Iron Age, but more like 'A Fistful of Dollars' meets 'Raphael's Angels'.This post appears as part of the weblog entry Preseli's Prehistoric Paradise |
Posted by treaclechops
31st August 2003ce
Edited 25th April 2004ce
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