Monday 13th January

"I am staring at the monolith from below the sacred hill altar.  It is much easier to get a perspective without that huge church against my butt.  From here, the mound dwarfs the church, as it should.

Rudston is an eerie place, built precariously on an ancient past of true psychedelic intensity.  Each village along the Gypsey Race has some tale to tell. But here it pitches in to tell some awesome and unorthodox mystery.  If Avebury is the Great Reconciler, then where are the cursuses?  Rudston and its environment fits well with the Avebury complex:  The chalk, the flint, the vast earth monuments, the disregard for time and perspective, all caught up in these enormous civic monuments".....Julian Cope, The Modern Antiquarian

The Rudston Monolith

The Rudston Monolith, to be found in The Yorkshire Wolds.  A prehistoric stone so large but still in the end dominated by the church. A clear expression of what the christian church thought of paganism, though in actual fact it could also be interpreted as two religions lying side by side.  It was cold that day it was Valentine's day, and this was our treat.

The stone was dragged from about 25 miles away from the Scarborough coast, and stands on a hill, there are four cursuses tracks (long gone archaeology) leading to the bottom of the hill in the village of Rudston, and also the wonderfully named Gypsey Race river.  Called that apparently because of its winding course.  Here quite straight as it goes through the village.

Julian Cope  says of this area that it had many barrows and prehistoric stones but all removed over time by the farmers.  History sinks into itself, fine traces appear above ground.  The very fact of a village here reminds us that 'ownership' of land goes through the ages. We question why, and then note the river that runs through a valley, a settlement place.  As time passes by building crumbles as new ones take their place. 

You have only to see it today on 'Escape to the Country' barns have been transformed into high ceiling sitting rooms, with the obligatory island in the middle of the kitchen.  Old Roman houses, long since fallen, will have evidence of Iron Age oysters shucked in the corner, as someone long ago sought the shelter of these old walls. 

I started with Julian Cope, singer, writer and occasionally high on drugs.  But when he wrote the Modern Antiquarian, he broke the stultifying jargon of an archaeologist written report.  He saw prehistory through different eyes, noting the 'sacredness' of long gone archaeological features, it seems to me that in worrying about the non-existent cursuses at Avebury, he forgets the great West Kennet Avenue, which surely fulfils the purpose.

A message from my daughter flashes in the right hand corner, "Mum all is well here" thank goodness says I.  Then as I read, see she has pre-empted a decision about an invitation for me about going to Switzerland.  But she is right hens and dog need thinking about, though I do love Switzerland and perhaps would like to see my two ex-sister-in-laws.

Brexit has been superseded by a royal couple calling for out. Go for it says I, these two young people can make their own decisions, and the 'firm' must learn to change in this  different world.

The Winterbourne at Avebury.  Another 'sacred' river