Stonehenge – Thursday 28th February
As we wait at the traffic lights by the building works, an Apache appears in the sky to our left. With headlights bright, it flies low across the landscape and towards us.
We set off and, briefly, are parallel to the helicopter as it races towards the top of the Cursus. At this point the sense of the speed at which these beasts travel becomes obvious. From a distance they hover, elegantly, swooping, gliding, soaring. Close up, they hurtle at a thrilling and urgent pace, the blades beating and bending the airwaves out of shape.
A line of trees separates the road from the Cursus and shields the Apache from view as we gather speed. When we emerge to the open landscape, the helicopter is a small cut out silhouette way off in the distance.
It’s another cold day. The car park has space a plenty, the crows hang about in the hawthorns and on the fence posts. A crocodile of brightly dressed school children amble across the field from the Cursus and towards Stonehenge.
Up by the stones there are several school parties already in. One group seems to be entirely composed of children wearing animal hats, small knitted ears crowning infant heads.
Mark is still working on the silverpoint trilithon. Over sixty hours now. People are amazed by the drawing and try various tactics to get a photo of it. A school group gather round and chat to him. They don’t take photos they look.
Siobhan is here, flashes of purple from the lining of her long cloak shimmer against the green velvet of her dress as she walks around the grass walkway on the far side of the stone circle.
Outside the chain link fence a couple of people are standing on their heads, their legs splayed in the air as a companion takes a photo.
A Chinook flies loudly and low the other side of the road.
A group of Southeast Asian visitors linger to take photos of each other on the tarmac path. They count, one…two…three and jump for the shot. They’re a very fashionable looking group, conspicuously so – ultra street, not just in their clothing but in their haircuts and their accessories. I’m thinking I might be looking at a band. Of course I could be completely wrong, but that is part of the fun of being here, watching people of the world and telling stories about them.
There’s a nice atmosphere here today. Laughter in many different languages, Japanese, Russian, French flutters round the site.
The sheep keep munching as a small blue tractor drives around them in the meadow.
As we leave, we pass Siobhan sitting outside in the café area. She’s holding the goat head staff in front of her, while three people stand facing her listening intently. She’s talking about Aboriginal dream lines…