One midsummer night – unable to sleep,
I begin to think about the stones again.
I can walk to them in 20 minutes, along an ascending rough track,
Which meanders through gorse, bracken and heather.
High up on the moor, overlooking Keigwin, the view is breathtaking.
I sit quietly on a soft hummock of moss and grass.
I can’t quite distinguish where the sky meets the sea.
Dawn is lightening the sky behind me.
The landscape falls away to the North
And tips over the land’s edge into the open Atlantic Ocean.
Chun Quoit – 2400 BC, so the legend goes.
For a brief moment, I am filled with intense wonder,
The capstone sits comfortably, like a soft felt hat on a very old person,
Its huge weight, unbelievably supported on just a few touching points by
Others, that slope inwards around a small chamber.
The serpent of truth touches my soul
And I begin to draw.