Lyneham Longbarrow Long Barrow View all content for Lyneham Longbarrow

The skies had become a cauldron of meteorological phenomena by the time we drove along the ridge that led to Lyneham, and as we looked south, we could see a massively proportioned, purple and black thundercloud advancing up county towards us. It resembled something you would expect to find sweeping across African plains, as all round, the clouds towered into grey skies, their huge structures boiling and twisting into more thunderclouds as we watched. A strange light in the north filtered through more gigantic cumulonimbus, and clearly, a torrential downpour was imminent. Lightening flashed as we pulled off the road, and it was decided a very swift visit to this broken barrow would be the order of the day. The lovely Karen wisely elected to stay in the car. As the bewitching Fiona and I strode through the field (keeping close to the hedgerow), towards the solitary stone that is Lyneham, another bolt of lightening lit up the sky, and a peal of thunder rumbled belligerently. “How cool is this?!” I exclaimed gleefully, “Visiting a megalithic site in a thunderstorm, in the company of a megalithic goddess! Splendid!” “Hmm,” replied Fiona nervously, more aware of the fact we were atop a ridge in open ground with only a hedge at the same height as ourselves. To the south, the countryside was obliterated by vertical sheets of water. We reached the stone just before the first drops of rain, and spent a mad few minutes of camera work and stone appreciation; feeling the stone’s vibe seemed to calm Fiona’s sense of anxiety, and I felt the prevailing weather conditions really heightened this obscure site’s vibe. By now, the wind was whipping up, and the gigantic deluge was almost upon us, so we hurried back to the car, minutes before the storm broke. We had planned to visit the Hawk Stone, and gamely made our way there through the tempest, but on arriving, it was clear we weren’t going to be able to reach her. After waiting 15 minutes, the downpour showed no signs of abating, so we returned to Karen’s for tea and biscuits, me cackling maniacally every time we drove through huge puddles in the roads. What a very impressive end to the day!

Posted by treaclechops 31st August 2003ce

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