Where the love of wandering started. One of my earliest memories of going for a walk as a child.
We have both been under the weather this weekend, So just a short one to be going on with.

(picture from English Heritage)

Salisbury Plain.

In the year-long heat of a childhood summer,
past the gate at the bottom of the houses,
there was an open space. A whispering field
and the stones waiting quietly at the edge of sight.
Every day I looked out and they called me.
Then one morning I went, I walked out of the gate
and into the tall grass of the fields.
I walked as far as I could see.
I walked until I found Stonehenge.
Unencumbered then by fences or entry fees,
before Travellers and Druids had claimed it
I was free to circle through, a child
in a forest of stones. I pressed against
their coldness, touched them, stood in the centre
and looked out across the plain. I was
at the centre of the world with everything
spread out around me. It was a different time,
an age of exploration. I found space and silence,
a place. That night, with family around the table
eating and talking, the inevitable question was
of my day long absence. “Where have you been today?
I poked food around my plate and said “just around”

3 thoughts on “Wanderlust

    1. Have you been? Avebury is my personal favourite, but Dartmoor has won my heart, there are many circles and avenues in the wid places there, and the bleakness lends them something extra in my mind.



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