I parked to the immediate east of Windmill hill, just off the A4361, opposite East farm, leaving my weary daughter on car protection duties, then made my way up the white horse trail. You only have to follow the path across two or three fields and already it has taken me unseeingly close by three barrows, I did see a lady who looked like she spends a lot of time sitting around ancient places. I could slip into her shoes or wellies as they may be, quite easily. In short time I reach the top, a National trust sign informs me I am at Windmill hill, tell me something I don’t know, another more faded sign shows me there are more barrows up here than I had anticipated, something I didn’t know.
Once through the gate the first barrow is almost on top of you, naturally, I got on top of it and had a look around. Oh dear, there’s much more up here than I had thought. Close to me are more barrows, with ditches winding around and through and off away around the hill. I thought there may have been a couple of barrows at best, I’m not going to have enough time.
Then I make for a barrow shape, only to find it’s one of them funny reservoir thingies. Humph!
From there I make for the big barrow at the top of the hill, only to get beaten to it by a whole family, first on the scene was a little girl who had as much energy and enthusiasm as a football team made of modern antiquarians, she was dancing and spinning round, rolling down the barrow, poking her nose into rabbity holes and everything. Don’t see that very often.
Most of the family left quickly, leaving one adult overseeing the exuberant child, who was playing in the deep ditch of the barrow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a good ditch around a barrow before, reminds me places like Bryn Celli Ddu and Maes Howe.
Time had passed by like I was stuck in a time warp, making it time to get going, I left the hill top to the next generation of barrow rollers, and passed out of view. Then we went home, the motorway was crap.
The barrow of which you speak is probably the best preserved bowl barrow i've ever seen. "Look at the ditch on that!" I exclaimed to my wife as we stumbled around in the fog. I think she was more taken with the sheep to be honest.
Did you kick any mole hills over hoping for a barbed and tanged arrowhead to appear? I always kick mole hills over on Windmill Hill. A sort of 'rough out' struck flint appeared once but, alas, no bona fide arrowhead to date.
Also, some of those ditches that look like they belong to the causewyed enclosure up there are actually quarry pits, apparently. It's a confusing place.
Mole kicking sounds a bit tight, how do you get them out of the ground?
That bowl barrow is a stonker.
Very confusing, but yum the view.
The moles seem to have moved to The Sanctuary, judging by the number of molehills around the concrete. Might be a subsidence issue going on soon!
re talpa europaea, I don't kick them, I lecture them at length for having the temerity to deny me access to that 10x10 inch piece of ancient monument.
The UTTER BASTARDS. It's REALLY SERIOUS.
But, more often than not, halfway through the lecture they tend to start crying, which starts me crying and we all get in a right old state. Then we hug and it's all ok. It's that old story of mole denies man small part of causewayed enclosure, man lectures mole, mole cries, man cries, mole and man hug.
How many times have we seen the old story played out in the fields of Wiltshire?
Timeless stuff.
The view is very fine, but there was no view that day. Just a foggy otherworld.