A few minutes ago, I was enthralled to read this article on the BBC news site dealing with a newly-discovered rectangular or square-shaped feature on the Moon. You can read it for yourselves and make of it what you will, but the part that leapt out at me was this: “But knowing now of its existence, it is possible to trace the giant rectangle’s subtle outline even in ordinary photos.”
Anyone can immediately see the truth of this by merely glancing at a photo of the Moon and as from now, this strange feature will be immediately accepted into our sum total of knowledge, without question. However, it’s been there for longer than there have been men on Earth to gaze up and discern this shape, so I find myself wondering how many countless men, women and children over the millennia have noticed this feature and wondered about it. I’m no statistician, but I would guess that at least a few in recent times have articulated what they’ve seen to a friend or family member – perhaps even to a scientist – only to have their observation dismissed.
I can’t and won’t claim to have seen this feature myself, but the whole thing reminds me of the invaluable lesson I learned many years ago, namely that “he who stares too hard into the mist risks tripping over the stone at his own feet.” Sometimes you don’t need to go in search of something, because it’s there in plain view and always has been, but its reality will always be disputed until there’s a consensus that it exists. I used to write about this kind of thing at great length on my slumbering Eternal Idol site, while Juris Ozols and our late friend Alex Down came across a meaningful feature of their own, close to the King Barrow ridge. Again, they may have been accused of seeing something that wasn’t there, something that was merely a product of their fevered imaginations, had we not learned afterwards that there was a consensus that what they’d discovered was real and meaningful.
Of all such things in the Stonehenge landscape, I’m most struck by the memory of how my daughter Tanith saw the head, neck and torso of a huge hound on the Heel Stone – Apollo Cunomaglus? – and it’s impossible not to be be able to see it whenever I look at the Heel Stone, just it’s now impossible not to be able to see the faint but unmistakable wreckedangular feature on the Moon.
In light of the many recent discoveries by the Stonehenge Hidden Landscape Project, I wouldn’t be remotely surprised if some attentive Stonehenge enthusiasts discern some meaningful features or patterns for themselves, perhaps something along the lines of The Avenue Northwest Into The Hills that I wrote about many years ago. I wish them all luck with this and we can all benefit from being enlightened in such a way, but I would add the unbreakable caveat that nothing in this whole wide world has a reality until such time as archaeologists and other scientists solemnly confirm it to be the case.