My flatmate and I boarded the bus to Stonehenge just in time for its departure. As the bus drove further and further out of Bath, the English countryside became more and more dramatic; the hills were steeper, the grass greener, and the sheep population was growing steadily with every mile. With the growing intensity of this beauty also came the ascending speedometer at the hands of our bus driver/tour guide–it was here that I could really appreciate my parents’ observation from their trip to England that the British drive very fast. I struggled to hear what he had to say over the sound of my bottom ejecting from its seat with every bump and jostle on the road, but the scenery was enough for me to be content with just my good seat next to the window. After an hour of this eventful trekking, we safely reached our destination.
The tour bus left us at the visitor’s center which is about a mile away from the monument we all iconically know as Stonehenge. On the way to Stonehenge, however, are dozens of historic monuments I had no idea existed spread across the land: hundreds of burial grounds that date back to the Neolithic period (about 2500 BC). On the site of Stonehenge itself, archaeologists have discovered the remains of hundreds of people believed to be ancient pilgrims to the holy site.
In “Walking In Your Footsteps” by the Police, Sting sings what sounds like a conversation he would have with dinosaurs, if it was at all possible. There is the brontosaurus, built “three stories high,” but supposedly “would not hurt a fly,” and these lyrics are followed up with the contemplation of whether or not the dinosaurs would approve of our use of a catastrophically destructive weapon like the atom bomb These large and majestic creatures that roamed the Earth for as long as they did probably thought nothing of a day where their entire existence would be burned away. Sting seems to be reflecting upon the perceived invincibility of the human race through these questions.
Being at Stonehenge in the flesh, I found myself thinking about Sting’s lyrics, contemplating our existence on a similarly large scale. Furthermore, I believe the best way to define my presence at Stonehenge is as a pilgrimage. Being in the presence of such raw human history, standing around what literally is the resting place of our ancestors from thousands of years ago, was a solemn reminder of our mortality. And whenever I listen to that silly Police song now, I can’t help but wonder what those ancient worshipers would think of us spectators today.
