Kemerton CampWhat happened next opened my eyes to the power of the Mary flow I’d been following across England. It swept away down to a standing stone. From my research and from a trick of the low sunlight that modelled its craggy features, I knew that this was what the locals called the Elephant Stone and it, indeed, in that light startlingly resembled that creature. Its real name was the Banbury Stone, deriving from Baenintesburg, the name of the fort in the eighth century.
the Elephant Stone Banbury StoneBaenintesburgI sauntered up to it feeling quite devoid of energy, drained, that is, until I rested my palms flat on the rough stone, where my silver ribbon, running straight to it, amazingly reared up and circled it in a spiral. My hands and arms tingled but I could feel myself becomin
