Recently on a short trip away, I discovered the standing stones in Australia’s Glen Innes highlands. At once I thought of Stonehenge, but then there’s Scotland’s Calanais that predate those, Drombeg in Ireland and of course, Italy’s standing stones in Fossa, of all places, erected by the Vestini between 1000 – 800 BC, as well as others all over the world.
While these Australian ones have stood for just over three decades now, there’s still something stirring about walking among the thirty-eight ancient megaliths each standing three and a half metres high (and once, for many, all those other ancient formations were as recent too). As you can see from the sky, the weather was dramatic but at one moment I put my hand flat on one of the standing stones and the sun broke through the clouds making the mica in the granite sparkle.
By chance, I also happened to visit these standing stones at the change of season from spring to summer and at the time of the Scottish St Andrew’s day. While I’m half Italian, I’m also about a quarter Scottish from Mum’s side and at times like this, that marked variance in cultures can feel jarring and I don’t feel I quite ‘belong’. Yet, knowing there’s standing stones in both Scotland and Italy and more recently in Australia too, somehow bridges this in a small way, also offering a link to those ancient peoples of different places.
Some reasons for standing stones include ceremonial, astronomy or a calendar – the stones placed so the sun shines through certain ones at times like winter and summer solstice, marking seasons changing and when to sow and harvest. But there remains much mystery and legend too surrounding stone circles throughout the world. You can feel it, especially when standing in the shadow of an age-old megalith that’s been on this earth long before us and will be long after. And that’s perhaps a good thing, as it makes us imagine and wonder and remember there are much bigger and more ancient things going on in the world.
Zoë Boccabella 