Humanity certainly has come a long way. It wasn’t that long ago really, we were living in caves and mastering the naked flame. Yet here we are; seven billion of us, spread out across seven continents and one hundred and sixty-nine countries. We have advanced because we are adaptable, because we can we can make the most of every environment; mold it so that it suits our every need. We can travel from continent to continent; can send messages around the planet within the blink of an eye. We have even begun to explore an alien environment, have travelled into outer space and have mapped out the planets and stars. We have evolved over a surprisingly short amount of time; have come so far and yet, we still have so much to learn. Humanity searches the future, hoping to find the answers there like a birthday present, just waiting to be opened. I’m not so sure the future is the right direction for mankind though. I think the answers are in the past, are far behind us in a world that we have conveniently presumed to forget.
It’s time for me to travel now, to leave this place and to go back in time to a place where life is very different than today.
I can see a young boy. His hair is shoulder length and easily curled; a mouse brown and he is wearing a thick woolen tunic shirt and a pair of bear skin shorts. It’s cold and damp, misty swirls of white drifting in the breeze with lethargic ease. The grass about his feet gradually slips away in all directions, an uneven, green ocean that falls mystically into the mist about it. It’s early morning and he knows he shouldn’t be so far away from the settlement.
Something beckons him though, draws upon his mortal soul, bringing him to the place where so many had died in years gone by, his own father included. Generation after generation of men had lived and died here, had devoted their lives to building what now stood so proud and mighty. His father was the last generation to die for the cause, for it was complete now. After over a thousand years, it was finally complete.
As he moves on, the mist breaking up into subtle ribbons of white, he can see it before him. Only nine years of age, this place has been burned into his mind. His mother had told him stories of this place, of the ancients, who had transported the giant, sarsen stones from the Marlborough Downs. The smaller, bluestones had been transported a huge distance, all the way from the Prescelly Mountains, some 240 miles away. Each stone weighed up to four tones and about eighty of them were used. The sarsen stones weighed up to fifty tones each.
This place, this magnificent place, this place where countless men had died, was finally complete and this young boy stood in awe of what stood before him.
Thousands of miles away, there stands yet another boy. He isn’t dressed the same as the first, isn’t standing in the cold. With him, the sun is shining brightly, bolt upright, blood red. He is wearing a white, wrap-round skirt-like, length of material that is tied at the waist with a belt. He is also wearing a pair of leather sandals. His hair is black and straight and his skin is of an olive complexion. He watches on as thousands of workers struggle with huge limestone blocks, pulley systems hauling them up colossal ramps until finally, each block can find its ultimate resting place.
That’s enough for now … I will continue in the next post