Janie & the Stonehedge

My overwhelming excitement about being in Winchester Cathedral in crazy close quarters with the resting Jane Austen in the ground was, frankly, overwhelming. Me and Lydia erupted out of the Cathedral, skipping, laughing, grabbing and climbing about. Every photo taken afterwards was filled with us grinning ridiculously and grasping onto each other in pure unadulterated glee. Oh Jane. We skipped, jumped and danced back to where our study abroad group was waiting for us and just jabbered about Jane! JAne! JANE! We even wrote a song about her that had a gothic, religious ceremony affect to it. I licked her dying home. Oh sweet Jane. Did you know her brother revealed her identity after she had died as the writer of the greatest roman novels?

Then our day felt as if it stood in that small, circular break in the stormy, dark clouds, the sunshine spot. The ring of sun. Sunny ring. Sunny-D, Baby. But if you are wondering what all the hype is about. It's stonehenge! A place for druids and wizards alike to gather and chant on the two solstices', but we along with all those crazy magicians (but not when we were there) were allowed to walk among the rock giants. Stonehenge. It was more than lovely.

WE HAD

Indian Chanting

Polish Dancing

Sacrifice

Jumping lessons and strained neck-tendons

More sacrifice

 Awed Sighs

I think one couple kissed....

A rock was licked (on the sly)

And the sun was raised to the sky in its setting

Best. Day. Yesterday. Hmmmm.