An ancient place with an air of mystery...Long Meg and her daughters, a stone circle that entices...
Long Meg with Lake District fells behind her
Today is the Summer Solstice and yesterday I visited Long
Meg and her daughters, the stone circle not far from Penrith, Cumbria.
Several people were already gathered there,
obviously intending to stay and watch the sunrise this morning. Walking around the circle, I had clear views
of the surrounding fells both the Pennines and Lake District fells. Blencathra stood in majesty with a crown of
cloud atop its summit. At such moments,
it becomes obvious why such a location was chosen by our ancestors for their
important monuments. I sat on one of the
stones and looked at the mountains, the lush fields, the huge expansive sky,
the floating clouds and all the while was conscious of the age of the stones
and that sense of mystery that emanates from the circle. It hints at timelessness and the
unknown.
I have been to the circle many
times and no longer wonder and speculate about the people who created this
monument as I used to do. No, the
history and intellectual ponderings have been quietened by the feeling of the
place. To sit silently, listening to the sounds of nature and letting eyes
wander to sky, mountain, earth and clouds is enough.
To feel this place is to understand it.
William Wordsworth visited Long Meg and the circle and
was inspired to write:
A weight of Awe not easy to be borne
Fell suddenly upon my spirit, cast
From the dread bosom of the unknown past,
When first I saw that family forlorn;
Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn
The power of years - pre-eminent, and placed
Apart, to overlook the circle vast.
Speak Giant-mother! tell it to the Morn,
While she dispels the cumbrous shades of night;
Let the Moon hear, emerging from a cloud,
At whose behest uprose on British ground
That Sisterhood in hieroglyphic round
Forth-shadowing, some have deemed the infinite
The inviolable God that tames the proud.
Fell suddenly upon my spirit, cast
From the dread bosom of the unknown past,
When first I saw that family forlorn;
Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn
The power of years - pre-eminent, and placed
Apart, to overlook the circle vast.
Speak Giant-mother! tell it to the Morn,
While she dispels the cumbrous shades of night;
Let the Moon hear, emerging from a cloud,
At whose behest uprose on British ground
That Sisterhood in hieroglyphic round
Forth-shadowing, some have deemed the infinite
The inviolable God that tames the proud.
