Seasons GreetingsSeasons

Greetingsa festive personal message

from theReverend Launceston P. Holsworthy.

© AndielinesGraphicarts 2007

it’s probably about time

.blogspot.com

Rev. Launceston P. Holsworthy

Nughsead.

THE VICARAGE,

a peace about Stonehenge.

Not exactly a henge to some people as it isn’t surrounded by a ditch, but none

the less, Stonehenge ironically embodies everything a henge should be, in just about

every bodies mind that expressed a preference. What must it have been like in its new

built granite glory possibly eight thousand years ago? If you lived on the rolling plains

that surround what we now call Salisbury you might see on a clear day, far away in

the distance, and when not clouded by the smoke from a hundred peaceful home fires,

the sun glinting from its surface. Too far away to visit regularly but certainly a vivid

visual reminder of specific times of the year. After harvesting the crops in what was

little more than a large paddock, which you had built with your own hands to protect

your families food from scavengers. The days would grow longer and cooler as if to

remind you that winter, by far the hardest time of year, was sharpening its icy claws

and for which you had spent all year stock-piling provisions. In times when the crops

didn’t need attending, you had sharpened a few flints and spearheads to trade at the

upcoming festival, you feel slightly embarrassed still clinging to the old technologies

but a man’s got to feed his mate and young ones somehow. If you trade all you've made

you should just be able to get enough meat and drink to see you through until the sun

comes back and its time to plant again. Isn’t technology wonderful, to think you have

the circle to thank for that, which was why you decided to literally 'up sticks' and

move here in the first place. Thankfully the woman has got used to it now that you've

been here a while. But you have to keep learning new things and moving forward or

you'll just get left behind, as you had told her in no uncertain terms, in fact you told

her you would leave her behind. Up on the plain you could see the shadows on the

henge and knew, to within a week or two, exactly what the time was and you could

sense the young ones getting exited as the shadows moved across the ground signalling

the grand alignment, which meant the long nights had ended and you had the

warmth of the summer sun to look forward to. But first the festival, which was really

the whole point of being there. Nobody could remember who first built a sun circle on

this site but for as long as anyone could remember it had been accurate and

indispensable. Until it got to a point where the crowds that amassed there,

supposedly to find out when the sun was coming back, but mostly drawn by the revelry

that ensued, had made it necessary for the elders to make it more substantial and

impressive. They were now the smartest and most impressive megaliths for miles

around. Some of the lesser known circles had fallen into disrepair as people began to

travel further to the larger gatherings. And without which things would be much more

difficult, if not impossible around here. What kind of world would you be living it if

you had no way of knowing what time of year it was, for heavens sake?

The nights became long as you would sit with nothing more to do than watch

the stars move across the sky, (especially now you'd finished digging the new platform

so the festival goers got a good view of the proceedings). After a while you begin to

notice patterns in the vivid nightly light-show and imagine them as animals or

monsters or even characters from old stories you'd heard. Eventually, after the gradual

progression of the star shapes through the sky, you knew the critical time was drawing

near and the number of people in the area began to swell. Some that had come far used

the circle in strange and different ways, counting off the nights after the alignment

before they celebrated their own festivals that they'd enjoyed back where they left

their families. You didn’t understand why they did what they did, but I suppose you

had to make everyone welcome and you never knew what baubles they may have brought

to barter for a freshly sharpened axehead or what stories they might tell in the

process. It was always nice to get the woman something at this time of year to mark

the turning of the season, she had worked hard on the fields, even with the help of the

young ones which sometimes appeared to be more of a hindrance.

The whole area grew silent as the lowly sun inched its way towards the stone

you could see in the distance and with which it was destined to align. A bright flash

seemed to fill the circle as a beam of sunlight pierced the megaliths and illuminated

that special place within. Almost at once you heard the appreciative roar of the

many tribes of various shapes and sizes standing, waiting, transfixed and hundreds

of lanterns began to glow all around, outlining the familial groups of eager sun

watchers. It wouldn’t then be long before the chanting and cheering began, hundreds of

people joined together to give thanks for the suns goodness and who chanted and

cheered for as long as they lungs would allow. And you when you get back to the shelter

exhausted you mustn’t forget to give that cooking bowl, you made secretly as a gift, to

the woman and the drinking cups you made, to the little ones.

Launceston P. Holsworthy

Rev. Launceston P. Holsworthy

Nughsead.

THE VICARAGE,

© AndielinesGraphicarts 2007

it’s probably about time

.blogspot.com