We would park opposite the stones and usually there would be no one but us and no sound but the larks overhead, the far-off baaing of sheep and the wind over the grass. We would explore the stones, overawed by their enormous size when close-up. "But what was it all for?" I asked my father. "No one knows and never will," he replied. "It's a mystery."
I have never been back, nor shall I ever. Friends who have visited tell me of the crowds, car-parks, wire and theme-park atmosphere. The mystery remains, but the mysterious ambience has gone for ever.
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