I'm a witch photographer. I take pictures of witches, fairies, ghosts and giants. Also dragons, but I don't like dragons. They're dangerous. They burn you, eat you and spit out the bones.
Geoffrey of Monmouth, AD 1136. Merlin, magic and machines, not muscle.
Nobody has ever wanted the boring answer. Nine hundred years of people explaining how the stones got onto Salisbury Plain, every one of them with a better version than the last, and not one of those versions has ever been “the ice put it there.”
Stonehenge has never been short of folk who reckon something unaccountable goes on… Far out there, man. Far out there.
The Devil got in first. Bought the stones off an old woman in Ireland, magicked them over by night, then chucked one at a friar who caught him at it. Hence the Friar’s Heel.
Then there’s the counting. Four hundred-odd years ago, back around Elizabeth I, it was held that nobody could count the stones twice and arrive at the same total, and that whoever managed it would come to a bad end. Nobody ever says what sort of bad end. That’s the trouble with a curse. No docket. No paperwork. Nobody to ring. No Google to query. No help’s coming. (I know that trick.)
The witches turned up considerably later. Skyclad rites at the stones are a 1950s and 60s invention, Wicca first, then the free festivals, yes, sometimes naked, but as ancient as a Ford Anglia. Hasn’t stopped anybody. Thursdays out there are usually strange.
The Upton Lovell woman, as a witch photographer would. The single fringe of drilled bone points, the two hammered gold discs, the dark touchstone in her palm and the raw white chalk of the barrows behind her all come from the record.
Well, well, well. The Upton Lovell shaman, dug out of a Wiltshire barrow in the early 1800s and shown off ever since as a bearded bloke in a bone cloak, turns out to have been a woman – a shamanka. Ancient DNA, three separate bones, the same answer each time. She lived around 3,800 ya (BC 1,800), and she was buried barely 10 miles (16km) west of Stonehenge.
Derived from the Tungusic word šaman meaning “one who knows” a shamanka is a female shaman. The word combines the term “shaman” with the Russian feminine suffix “-ka.”
The top part of the broken and fallen ‘fat’ upright from the central Trilithon 3 — it lays across the Altar Stone. Much of the graffiti on the top has worn away. Can just make out: ƗANE FLEMƗNG 1747
I suspect the upper case letter I with the stroke through it would be the Latin form.
Long been fascinated by these carvings. I think this stone will be the Rosetta Stone of Stonehenge. Seen with other original markings on 59a and the back of 54. There’s definitely method in the carvers’ madness.
S28 rendered in a rust texture to emphasise the swirling patterns. Note the three notches top right.
Poor crows, jackdaws, or rooks. Been living here for generations upon generations; going back over a thousand years. Now fenced off. Lintel 151, Trilithon One, inner face.
Recently, tenacious Brian John, researched this bluestone found on a beach by Phil Holden, a photographer, in Mumbles, near Swansea, South Wales. It is just one of several that make up a breadcrumb trail of the ice floes from the west of Wales, North Wales, even Scotland. Which, probably, reached as far or even further than the nascent site of Stonehenge.
Measuring 2.2m x 1.3m x 1m and weighing at least 7 tonnes. Smoothed by thousands of years of sea erosion.
So much graffiti. Possibly, because some stones may be softer, easier to carve.
Oblique view of the inner face of Trilithon Two’s Stone 53. Shows well the polishing a foot or so above De Ferre’s inscription. That would be around 6′ 8″ That polishing stone would have become pretty heavy at that height.Continue reading “Graffiti on Stone 53”