In what seems like only a few weeks since the dreaded days of the long dark commutes, it’s horrifying to note that the longest day of the year is already upon us. With time passing in the blink of an eye, London working life offers little opportunity to slow down and appreciate the here and now. Determined to savour what’s left of summer, I brace myself for the seasonal celebrations at Stonehenge.
Glastonbury High Street
Departing the deserted capital at 8.00am on a glorious Sunday morning, we whoosh down empty motorways to arrive in Glastonbury in time for a late lunch. Experiencing a Mr Benn moment, we enter a parallel universe of crystals, Wiccan ephemera and funky vegetarian cafes. No trace of a Tesco Metro or fried chicken shop on what must be one of Britain’s healthiest and most prosperous high streets. Food for thought, Mary Portas.
Having made the fatal mistake of booking accommodation late, we embark on our 26-mile round-Britain trip to Swindon to grab forty winks before setting off for the Stones. (Book well in advance to avoid this hassle.) Armed with coffee and glucose tablets, we experience our first stirrings of excitement as we become part of the clandestine convoy creeping through the Wiltshire countryside. (Allow plenty of time for traffic gridlock in all directions.)
Stonehenge Gridlock
Once finally parked, predatory burger vans shine like beacons in the dark and at this time in the morning, never has a Double Cheese looked so good. With the pre-dawn chill seeping into our bones, we join the eclectic mix of can-clanking hoodies and flowered-powered warriors on our pilgrimage to the dark shapes ahead.
Summer Solstice Action
As we near the sacred Stone Circle, tribal drums thrum through the earth as hoops twirl and a Pagan marriage ceremony gets into full swing. The drumming suddenly steps up a gear as the first wisps of light slowly appear and a kind of mid-summer madness descends. Caught up in the frenzied excitement, we eagerly await the sky to ignite before suddenly remembering we’re in England. The watery rays that do finally appear are greeted with thunderous applause all the same.
Stonehenge
In a burst of New Year’s Eve revelery, Solsticers cheer, hug, swig and dance as the Stones magically absorb the light and warmth of a new dawn. The cosy feeling of community and connection suddenly makes the 3.00am start feel not so bad. Once the initial euphoria subsides and day-light returns, the morning-after debris leaves a dull hangover. Feeling the familiar end-of-the-party awkwardness, we linger for a further half an hour before making our way back to the car park.
Stonehenge
Immersed in the Monday morning commuter gridlock back into London, we reflect on the magic of watching dawn break over Britain’s most mystical icon. Having stopped to experience the beauty of the longest day, somehow the steady descent back into the long dark nights does not seem so depressing after all.
