Sea Henge

The sea is where one life ends. The life of the land surrenders to the sea, is taken over and rinsed out into the tide, the endless horizon. When the chief of this Neolithic tribe died, his people were workers in wood as well as stone. They took their time, cutting
down a great oak with their tools, dragging it close to the sea and burying it
upside-down. The coastline has changed since then, of course. It was in view of
the sea then: now it is almost in the sea itself. The tide coming further back
than usual was a vagary of the spring tides, revealing the upended stem and the
wooden stumps surrounding it like members of a congregation, their heads bowed
in respect for his journey to the next life. Anyone who steps inside the circle
can feel this. All things pass away: this monument, and its surrounding circle,
are diminished by the passing of time. The experts come, and murmur and
analyse, and build a modern replica. They talk about authenticity. They think
it may be a fertility symbol. The long-long-dead remains of the ancient people
would laugh. They are part of the very sand that erodes their monument, now.