Left standing on the flat green English field like giants play blocks the bus sized slabs of grey rock jut up into the wide blue sky of billowing with clouds. Circled round to face each other they hide the ancient secret of their origin and meaning from the modern world. If only rocks could talk, oh the legend they could tell.
Lining up to visit them like the worshiping Druids did centuries before the crowds gather in the sunshine. A brilliant blue day to ponder the big questions. Where did they come from, what do they mean?