Rempstone Stone Circle
When I became an apparatchik, I put to one side all thoughts of the invisible worlds - I wrote shiny reports, I smiled when I spoke at meetings - I had five suits in my wardrobe, I wore a different suit each day of the week - I was anxious about my school's numbers on a screen -
Now I no longer wear socks - I have thrown away my suits - I have decided to read again about ley lines, Gurdjieff, apparitions, lost civilisations - I've discovered Julian Cope's Modern Antiquarian website - I am utterly beguiled by the website's learned posts, its references to local folklore - Will, the postman, tells me Julian Cope was a member of Teardrop Explodes -
I visited Rempstone Stone Circle yesterday - it's to be found in a wood, at the foot of the high chalk ridge which runs from Corfe Castle to Old Harry - I parked the red Peugeot in a small layby, opposite the footpath to Nine Barrows Down -
I crossed the road, dodging speeding Corsas, entering a pine wood - I had to slither through deep silky mud, but once under the dark trees, the ground was firm - there were ponds of reddish water between mossy ridges - all was silent - shafts of sunlight fell between the trees - the slender trunks of the pines were reflected in the water of the ponds - I thought of the pond which transported Digory and Polly to Charn -
At first, I could see no sign of the stones - then I started to see them - at first, the stones appeared to be irregularly placed - they were covered with thick moss, stained with lichen -but then I saw a half circle of stones - some were chest high - they were of various shapes - one had a small white shell placed upon it - I wondered who had placed the delicate shell there, and why they had done so - perhaps it was a votive offering -
I was conscious of the antiquity of the stones - I felt this - the stones were placed here, I learned, by the Beaker people, four thousand years ago -
When I became an apparatchik, I put to one side all thoughts of the invisible worlds - I wrote shiny reports, I smiled when I spoke at meetings - I had five suits in my wardrobe, I wore a different suit each day of the week - I was anxious about my school's numbers on a screen -
Now I no longer wear socks - I have thrown away my suits - I have decided to read again about ley lines, Gurdjieff, apparitions, lost civilisations - I've discovered Julian Cope's Modern Antiquarian website - I am utterly beguiled by the website's learned posts, its references to local folklore - Will, the postman, tells me Julian Cope was a member of Teardrop Explodes -
I visited Rempstone Stone Circle yesterday - it's to be found in a wood, at the foot of the high chalk ridge which runs from Corfe Castle to Old Harry - I parked the red Peugeot in a small layby, opposite the footpath to Nine Barrows Down -
I crossed the road, dodging speeding Corsas, entering a pine wood - I had to slither through deep silky mud, but once under the dark trees, the ground was firm - there were ponds of reddish water between mossy ridges - all was silent - shafts of sunlight fell between the trees - the slender trunks of the pines were reflected in the water of the ponds - I thought of the pond which transported Digory and Polly to Charn -
At first, I could see no sign of the stones - then I started to see them - at first, the stones appeared to be irregularly placed - they were covered with thick moss, stained with lichen -but then I saw a half circle of stones - some were chest high - they were of various shapes - one had a small white shell placed upon it - I wondered who had placed the delicate shell there, and why they had done so - perhaps it was a votive offering -
I was conscious of the antiquity of the stones - I felt this - the stones were placed here, I learned, by the Beaker people, four thousand years ago -
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