It's 16 months since Son the Younger and I went for a walk around the wider landscape of Avebury, full of plans for where we might explore during the remainder of the new and exciting year that was 2020. It's no exaggeration to say that, given the nature of the intervening time, it feels more like 16 years.
I'm not as convinced as the government that we're headed towards the sunlit uplands of no further lockdowns with no turning back, and so I was anxious to meet up with the part of my tribe based on the south coast while we could. We'd long mooted the idea of finding somewhere between Bristol and their location, and eventually settled on Avebury, which is much nearer to us than them, admittedly, but somewhere we could sit and picnic and wander and wonder.
Plus, there was a new member of the tribe for the far-flung human contingent to meet. And vice-versa. Which seemed to go well.
A quick recap - vast, sacred palimpsest of a landscape, with one large stone circle enclosing two smaller ones, enclosed by a ditch and an external bank, dating from the late Neolithic period, into which the village of Avebury encroached many centuries ago.
I'd hoped to walk along the paths on top of the banks for a good view of the landscape, but they were roped off due to erosion, so that will have to wait for another day, hopefully. Instead we explored the stones at eye level.
Cwtch also got to meet her first sheep, and was interested - and kept firmly on the end of a lead.
Obviously we had to visit the deservedly famous beeches near the eastern entrance on the outer ramparts of the henge, which always look like trees straight out of a storybook, and were vital in their new leaves.
I like that their admirers tie ribbons around their specatcular roots as well as their branches.
And from this vantage point, we still got a bit of a bird's eye view - at least, a very low-flying one.
A low-flying dragonfly
Wildlife pond and the Church of St James
Away to me, Cwtch!