“Welcome to Stonehenge. Today you’ll be stepping back 5,000 years to explore this wonder of the world.”
So said the brochure at the visitor’s center, where we disembarked from the tour bus after a two-hour drive. I had looked forward to this day with my son, David Jr.—just the two of us—and it happened to be his birthday.
Some fathers and sons go fishing or enjoy a ball game to celebrate special days. My son and I had enjoyed times like that across the years, but today was Stonehenge. How many times does a dad get to visit one of the world’s most ancient monuments with his son on his birthday? All those times before, I was the one who had taken my son somewhere for his birthday, but instead of me treating him this day, he was the one who had brought Lori and me along for this trip, not just to Stonehenge but to England. It was part of my retirement gift from David and Kayla. Lori and I had enjoyed every moment with them and their baby, Stella. Today the girls were relaxing at the hotel and shopping while David and I spent a day together.
We walked around the Stone Circle, gazing at the monuments along with the other tourists. “Somebody had to strongly believe in something to set up those stones like that,” I commented.
No one knows the why or how of Stonehenge, only that it is. People have floated a plethora of theories, and I’m sure one of them is correct. Was it a burial site, a monument to the dead, during the Late Neolithic period? By studying the remains of the dead at the site, scientists have determined the stones were somehow transported as far as 120 miles away. Carbon dating of the remains suggests they were cremated off-site, then transported to Stonehenge 4,400 to 5,000 years ago. But why?
Or were the stone formations built to track the movement of the sun, moon, and stars thousands of years ago, as some think?
Was Stonehenge a monument built as a pilgrimage site of healing?
As for the stones themselves (each weighing about 25 tons), they were transported some 180 miles away. But how? And why?
We gazed. And wondered.
Our day continued to the city of Bath, named after the baths where hundreds of years ago, Romans relaxed and soaked in the warm water for a spa day with some hoping, no doubt, to imbibe the water’s purported healing powers.
Hours later, we hopped back on the tour bus along with other travel-worn passengers at the tour’s close. Later that night, Lori and I would treat David and his little family on his special day at one of London’s restaurants. But for the moment, the hum of the bus’s diesel engine lulled the passengers into an afternoon nap as we passed peaceful country fields in Somerset County, England. As for me, I couldn’t help but keep one eye open, lured into pondering life’s question marks, prompted by the sites of the day. Yet at the same time, I was at peace with the mysteries (the answers to which only God knows), satisfied with God’s gift of a spectacular day, and supremely grateful that I was seated next to my best gift of the day: my son.
The visitor’s brochure had been right after all: I had experienced the wonder of the world.