This little valley of Sarsens tucked away between Fyfield and Overton Downs is as magical as ever.
Merrick’s directions below are spot on. As you walk into the valley (after truning right off the track) the altar stone of the Mother’s Jam lies 20 yards to the right of the biggest and most striking Sarsen. My strongest reaction was of a sarsen holiday camp, or more darkly, a megalithic version of invasion of the bodysnatchers – these were the pods ready to replace Avebury. The lichen and erosion patterns on these Sarsens are so familiar to the erect stones in the henge and avenues.
We joked about a Bronze Age geezer presiding over this huge Sarsen yard “Nah mate, can’t do anything for your in that size or colour. We’ve got this big grey one though”.