Continuing from yesterday’s post:

We had visited one of the more obscure sites in Derbyshire. It was one we did not know well, so  spending time with the stones, hidden away within a copse of trees, was something we felt we needed to do. We worked with the stones and, as I meditated in one particular spot, seated above where a burial had been placed, I seemed to see the procession of the Ancestors, stretching back from the present to the farthest reaches of the past in an unbroken line. It was a curious experience that left me in need of the grounding effects of a pub.

Our usual hostelry in the area having recently been sadly modernised, we headed for the nearest inn… a tiny little place, itself way off the beaten track, which had never been open when we had passed, winter or summer. The doors were…