There are few sights that are more commanding than this one:
As I drive out of London, on my way home to Devon, I look forward to seeing it on my right as I make my way across Salisbury Plain. It marks the half-way point of my journey. Sitting in the traffic on the A303 I often ponder the mysteries of those stones. How did they get there? By means of one of Merlin's magic spells? Coincidentally by the movement of the melting ice-sheets - glacial erratics, I believe is the term ? Or were they put there by the muscle-power of a race of men whose culture and beliefs have been lost across the span of time that separates their world from our own?
As you can see it's a place of mystery that inspires you to think outside the box of your everyday existence and to forget about the traffic.
