On Saturday morning I crested a hill on the A303 just past Amesbury and my
brain yelled something that I imagine a million and more brains, over thousands of years, have yelled
before mine:
"What the hell is that!?"
It did this despite having made a special trip to the area to see that which caused the outburst, and it wasn't even the first time it had done so. As old as the pyramids (or thereabouts) and at once out of place yet totally fitting, Stonehenge is a phenomenal thing to see rising out of the
Wiltshire countryside - even when you're expecting it.
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A photograph of Stonehenge, taken by me, but looking for all the world
like a cardboard cutout on a movie set.
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I love museums and heritage sites of all shapes, sizes and themes, but
Stonehenge has always commanded a particular fascination. I'm neither
religious nor spiritual, but visiting always feels like something of a
pilgrimage. I work with museums and I'm also a maths communicator, both of
which affect the way I look at cultural experiences: this post is intended to document
some of the thoughts I had regarding the potential of Stonehenge's story for enriching mathematical understanding (and vice-versa).