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Stone Circles Causing Emotional Sensations (Sorrow, Etc.)

I visited Stonehenge in 1992, on a backpacking trip with a friend after we graduated college.

I didn't feel anything wonderful or horrible, just a sort of sense of a slumbering awareness in the ground. Maybe that was my imagination, maybe it was some sort of earth-spirit or something, maybe it was just the accumulated and somehow recorded memories or something of all the people who had visited the place over time. It wasn't earth-shattering or anything, but it was kind of nice.

On a subject related to standing stones, has anyone read the Outlander book series, by Diana Gabaldon? BRILLIANT stuff, that! I love the series!
 
Since I wrote my post on this thread (14 years ago!) I have visited many more sites around Great Britain, all sorts of places including ancient churches on older pre-Christian sites, megaliths and circles, burial mounds etc. and haven't felt that same sorrow I felt at Stanton Drew until this year when we visited Julian's Bower turf maze in North Lincolnshire. It was a nice, quiet spot on the edge of a ridge, I sat and looked at the view and felt that same feeling, like everyone I had ever known was gone, not just dead but forgotten. It wasn't overwhelming nor was it a negative feeling. It almost felt like a memento mori thing, all things come to dust.
 
My friend J went to Carnac with her family when she was a teenager.
She had a terrible feeling from it and had a mental image of animals being tied to the stones and slaughtered in a ritual. The bad feeling came from the distress of the animals as they were killed.
 
marion said:
Since I wrote my post on this thread (14 years ago!) I have visited many more sites around Great Britain, all sorts of places including ancient churches on older pre-Christian sites, megaliths and circles, burial mounds etc. and haven't felt that same sorrow I felt at Stanton Drew until this year when we visited Julian's Bower turf maze in North Lincolnshire. It was a nice, quiet spot on the edge of a ridge, I sat and looked at the view and felt that same feeling, like everyone I had ever known was gone, not just dead but forgotten. It wasn't overwhelming nor was it a negative feeling. It almost felt like a memento mori thing, all things come to dust.
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I think this sort of hauntological introspection is getting more common. We are not tied to places as we once were. Houses that would stay in families for generations, land too all gave us a sense of belonging and being part of the landscape. We are just so temporary these days.
 
Never seen this thread before. Once spent 2 weeks in Cornwall visiting every stone circle we could find - including one almost inaccessible one I forget the name of, that took us ages to get to. Weird experiences a couple of times. We found one, very near a cliff although there was such a thick fog that afternoon, we had no idea we were even that close to the sea, at all. Fog lifted in a neat ring, right round the circle ad only the circle, for about ten minutes. The kids felt the foreboding and actually stayed in the car! Then the fog started to descend again and my not particularly woo husband, just said "They want us to leave, now!" So we left.

Also had a weird experience at Madron Well, of a man who appeared before we went in then at the totally opposite end - only one path through and we didn't pass him. He looked like a proper 70s' hippy (or Jesus).

Used to live in the Midlands so many trips to the Rollrights etc, as well as a few down to Stonehenge which is too English Heritage-ificated to have any atmosphere whatsoever. (Although went there as a child when you could still walk on and touch the stones and that was better). Rollrights shat me right up, every time. Avebury also felt very ominous. Now the circle we most often get to is Castlerigg near Keswick, which only ever gives me lovely, happy feelings but I know others have been there and found it very unwelcoming in feel, as a place, somehow. Always seemed happy to let me in, though. They definitely have their own feel, these places.
 
Years ago I visited the Kolomoki Indian Mounds in southern Georgia. It was a cloudy drizzly day and no one else was there, and it's an out-of-the-way, relatively unvisited site anyway. My wife was bored and stayed in the car reading, so I climbed the main mound alone. It was quite impressive, a very steep-walled earthen pyramid. I felt I should exhibit reverence so I tried to do that. Standing at the top, which is a flat surface about half the size of a football field, I kind of got into a strange frame of mine and felt an impulse to start walking clockwise around the perimeter of the top. Clockwise seemed important. I was feeling a buzzy kind of energy all through my brain and body. A little embarrassing to recount this and quite probably all in my mind, but I swear I didn't go there with any intent of communing with the ancient spirits. I wonder what would have happened if I'd kept at it all night.
 
IamSundog said:
Years ago I visited the Kolomoki Indian Mounds in southern Georgia. It was a cloudy drizzly day and no one else was there, and it's an out-of-the-way, relatively unvisited site anyway. My wife was bored and stayed in the car reading, so I climbed the main mound alone. It was quite impressive, a very steep-walled earthen pyramid. I felt I should exhibit reverence so I tried to do that. Standing at the top, which is a flat surface about half the size of a football field, I kind of got into a strange frame of mine and felt an impulse to start walking clockwise around the perimeter of the top. Clockwise seemed important. I was feeling a buzzy kind of energy all through my brain and body. A little embarrassing to recount this and quite probably all in my mind, but I swear I didn't go there with any intent of communing with the ancient spirits. I wonder what would have happened if I'd kept at it all night.
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not weird at all. Ancient sites can have an amazing effect on the brain
 
Just wanted to throw in here the experience - mentioned elsewhere on this site - that I had with a stone at Avebury, whereby I respectfully approached said stone and put my hand on it, only to feel that the stone's response was to pretty much tell me to eff off.
 
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pandacracker said:
Could you explain further? Why charge a Tarot deck? How do you do it? And what happened at Avebury? :confused:
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Hard to explain - and you don't have to 'charge' them as such but I happened to have it with me when I was there and thought why not. I still have that deck but never use it.

Nothing happened at Averbury - been there several times. It definitely has a powerful, er, feel to it. Then, so do most other old sacred sites.

I was talking last night with someone not from round here and we got on the subject of certain places having a really odd, or out of whack feeling, about them. She told me about walking somewhere not far from my house and getting this really awful, doom-laden feeling and I chimed in that there is one field round here where I can feel that, as well. Turned out she was describing the same field I had in mind. Everything looks the same round here, so I wouldn't have necessarily expected someone else to feel the same way in that specific field, as I do - as opposed to any of the other near identical fields which stretch for hundreds of acres in every direction.

Probably some physical, explainable phenomenon. But oddly, although I have always disliked how that field makes me feel if I walk through it, I have also always felt safe. Like the place knows me (every graveyard round here has my DNA in it, so many centuries of relatives farmed, lived and died here). But she comes from elsewhere and said she didn't feel safe there, at all. I dunno if any of that makes sense.
 
Well, I understand the bits about places having odd atmospheres and connection to land through family but I still don't understand how you charge a tarot deck and what it's charged with.

If it's difficult to explain in words I'm happy to go with interpretive dance :headspinner::nelly::hapdan:
 
pandacracker said:
... but I still don't understand how you charge a tarot deck and what it's charged with. ...
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There's no particular "charging" protocol prescribed, so I don't know exactly what GITM may have been meaning. Having said that ...

Tarot aficionados recommend taking care of one's own Tarot deck. Many deck maintenance tips are framed in terms of "energy" - e.g., the deck becoming "exhausted" or "contaminated" and needing to be "cleansed" and / or "charged."

Some sources emphasize using or meditating upon the cards as a charging strategy. Others suggest external aids such as full moonlight or crystals to cleanse and / or charge the cards.
 
pandacracker said:
Well, I understand the bits about places having odd atmospheres and connection to land through family but I still don't understand how you charge a tarot deck and what it's charged with.

If it's difficult to explain in words I'm happy to go with interpretive dance :headspinner::nelly::hapdan:
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Panda, if you saw my interpretive dance you'd lose your lunch. But you're right I can't really do it justice with words, so won't do that either. :nelly:
 
I passed by Stanton Drew the other day. One of the legends is that the stones are the petrified bodies of dancers, punished for dancing on the Sabbath (although, in their defence, how were they to know that the Devil himself was playing the tunes?). When I visited, a sense of exhaustion weighed heavily upon me. Exhaustion, and also despair: there was no respite to be had, no rest to be granted. Yet still they try to sleep:

Stanton Drew 1.jpg


Stanton Drew 2.jpg


Stanton Drew 3.jpg


But no rest is to be had, their burden still weighs them down:

Stanton Drew 4.jpg

This last stone really did not want me to approach. The others were acquiescent to varying degrees, but that one made its displeasure clear. Nonetheless, the stones accepted my own exhaustion, and I left the circles* feeling lighter, and refreshed.

*This was my second visit, and my second failure to make it as far as the third circle.
 
marion said:
Stanton Drew stone circles are a good one, just a few miles from Bristol but not easily spotted , you have to know its there. The second biggest stone circle after Avebury ,totally untouched and unrenovated ,the stones (some of them are enormous) are amazing, full of face simulacra and there are strange atmospheres there.
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marion said:
I just did a search for Stanton Drew (as I went there today) to see what people had to say about it and this was one of the threads that came up.
While I was there I sat in the shade of one of the larger stones for a drink of water ( I walked from Pensford and it was hot) and I felt suddenly a terrible sadness, it went right through me. I got the impression it was 'something else' like a spirit or ghost showing me the feeling as opposed to a premonition type sad feeling (like the ones I get when a person or pet is going to die) . It took a few minutes to disperse.
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Stanton Drew 8.jpg

Stanton Drew 7.jpg

Stanton Drew 6.jpg
 
johnnyboy1968 said:
I've been to Stanton Drew a few times since moving to Somerset, the most recent being last week when my parents came a-visiting. Every time, I've experienced a weird sensation there; a sort of disassociation with reality. It starts when I cross the bridge into the village. There's a feeling that I've crossed the threshold from "our" world into something far more ancient and enduring. The fact that, in all the times I've been there, I've never seen a single person in and around the village, doing normal villagey things, probably contributes as well. My Dad's comment was "This is a bit Wicker Man isn't it?"

It's a wonderful site though, and I like the slightly overgrown, neglected, forgotten vibe to it, especially when contrasted with poor, abused Stonehenge.
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I couldn't agree more with this impression of the place: the village itself does not feel at all right. I have enjoyed both my visits so far, but never felt the urge to linger. This visit, there were a couple of old boys nursing pints outside the surprisingly anonymous village pub (no sign, no name in big letters over the door), but the unwelcoming vibe was almost tangible: the pub beer garden has the Cove (three megaliths) within it, but does not let you forget that the land belongs to the pub. Julian Cope suggests that the old landowner of the weddings themselves was notoriously unwelcoming: "you've had yer fifty p's worth". I wonder if he's running the pub, now. So any atmosphere of the Cove itself was overwhelmed. Shame - the setting, just by the church, is very much of the same too-pretty/other-worldly vibe johnnyboy mentioned. I had no desire to tarry, and as I made my way out of the beer garden, a crow in one of the trees seemed to be calling me by name. A very satisfying visit all round, then.

the cove 1.jpg

ETA - that photo looks to have lost a lot of detail in the upload process. I'll try to upload a better quality version soon.
 
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Am feeling the pull of Castlerigg again, so hope to be back up there very soon.

Couple years back, husband's colleague and good friend died. He was an ex squaddie (lungs fecked up by something in the Gulf War) - only in his 50s and died suddenly when his lungs failed. Years before, husband's mate had been a roadie for a heavy metal band and on his travels had often visited stone circles and we knew Castlerigg was a favourite. (Interestingly, friend always slept under the stars - never took a tent when he wandered around). Friend also loved jelly babies and husband and him would share packets at work.

We were up in Castlerigg just after he died, and we left a sacrificial jelly baby on the stones in his memory.

I've been up there with a pagan friend and we both of us noticed that the stones were giving off nothing - shut down, kind of - when it was crawling with tourists. Left alone there, you pick up far more. I find that particular one very benign. The Cornish and Midland ones, not so much. But I remember walking round one Cornish circle with my then baby in my arms and he reached out and touched the stones as we walked round (I think clockwise is human nature but I'll go anti- as well). And as he touched each stone, this beautiful smile lit up his face. Can remember his older brothers noticing it. He is the most un-woo 19 year old, now.

My half arsed theory has always been there is some kind of spirit of place and it's somehow magnified in some places, not others. It will let some people pass and not others. No clue why but sometimes I think if it "knows" you, you go through untroubled. Then there are the people - maybe the majority - who feel nothing and never will feel anything, at these places.
 
I’ve been to:

Callanish
Castlerigg
Stonehenge
Avebury
Newgrange
Arbor Low
The Rollright Stones

- and others that l can’t bring to mind at the moment.

The only one that provoked a strong emotional reaction (beyond simple wonder and fascination) was Newgrange, because of its story and raison d’être.

Our guide told us that the bones of one woman were placed in a large stone bowl at the end of the passage in the heart of the 200,000-ton tomb, and that the whole monument was designed and constructed so that, for only twenty minutes each year at the Winter Solstice, sunlight would fall on her remains.

If that thought doesn’t bring a lump to your throat, then you can’t be in my gang.

maximus otter
 
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We also have a thread on more general mysteriously saddening/uplifting places.
 
maximus otter said:
I’ve been to:

Callanish
Castlerigg
Stonehenge
Avebury
Newgrange
Arbor Low
The Rollright Stones

- and others that l can’t bring to mind at the moment.

The only one that provoked a strong emotional reaction (beyond simple wonder and fascination) was Newgrange, because of its story and raison d’être.

Our guide told us that the bones of one woman were placed in a large stone bowl at the end of the passage in the heart of the 200,000-ton tomb, and that the whole monument was designed and constructed so that, for only twenty minutes each year at the Winter Solstice, sunlight would fall on her remains.

If that thought doesn’t bring a lump to your throat, you can’t be in my gang.

maximus otter
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A visit there is on my bucket list. It looks amazing.

We used to do the Rollrights a lot. Always found them to have a bit of a sinister undertone - nothing terrible but enough for me to think I'd never want to be there at night.
 
The Backstone circle on Ilkley Moor, West yorks. has a dark and brooding feel to it. The first time I visited the site, I was with a couple of friends,who were dowsing the area.
I felt really uncomfortable the whole time we were there. I had the overwhelming sense that I was trespassing on someone's private property and that our presence was not wanted.
Suddenly, a swarm of tiny black flies seemingly came out of nowhere and attacked us. We all got quite badly bitten . I'm sure those flies were sent to get rid of us .
The second time I was at Backstone , there was a dead sheep in the middle of the circle, but even though that did nothing to encourage happy and positive feelings about the place, the horrible feeling of being watched by an unwelcoming presence was not there that time.
My sister , who was with me at the time , and I did, however, lose four hours of time that we just can't account for. When we arrived at the circle it was a bright, sunny afternoon and then suddenly, it was dusk. We have gone over the events of that day many times , where we went and how long it took , but four hours or so just can't be accounted for
 
https://www.bacas.org.uk/2021/06/27/cleaning-the-stones-at-stanton-drew-2/

Bath and Counties Archeological society have been doing some work at Stanton Drew, worth a look for the plans which help put in context. IIRC one of their earlier surveys (2010?) indicated that this was once a much greater sacred landscape. It is a very atmospheric location, always feels like its half awake to me, and the ever present rooks add a certain gothic tone.
 
OK, not a stone circle, but they are megaliths so I must put in a mention of Blue Bell Hill here (on the North Downs in Kent), which I've hiked across a number of times in various directions. I never really got anything off Kit's Koty House, except a sense of its solidity and continuity - like a fixed point in an everchanging landscape. Approaching Blue Bell Hill across the fields from the southwest I felt the whole landscape was somehow brooding. I had a slight sense of weirdness or foreboding on the lane by Little Kit's Koty House, however there are high hedges, blind curves and fast, frequent traffic, so this was probably a fear of being run over. When I first explored the cluster of megaliths on Blue Bell Hill, I headed up the lane from Little Kit's Koty House to join the Pilgrim's Way/North Down's Way footpath running southeast to check out the White Horse Stone on the other side of the A229. The whole time I was walking along this footpath I felt I was being watched, with some unseen presence around me. The White Horse Stone was, well, a big rock. But I stepped into a shady hollow under the trees immediately beside the stone to the southwest and felt an immediate, overwhelming sense of welcome and warmth, most odd, makes my skin tingle thinking about it now.

I must qualify any sense of foreboding/brooding/being watched that I had with the fact that I am well aware of all the folklore and weirdness centred on Blue Bell Hill (yes, I did hike up the hill to the area around the footbridge over the A229 which is the focus of one cluster of the phantom hitch-hiker/accident victim accounts on the Hill. No, I didn't get any weird feelings there, just the sense of being by a busy road and wanting to be back in the countryside).
 
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