Anyone but boring old nature

A robed, long-haired Merlin raises a glowing staff towards a stone lintel slung beneath an enormous timber gantry crane, while dozens of workmen haul on ropes below and sit astride the top beam at sunset
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.”

Continue reading “Anyone but boring old nature”