🔗 Share this article

Illumination wanes swiftly as I stand within the ancient ring of stones at Tregeseal. The rock monoliths appear luminous in this melancholy countryside, like curious, spectral figures assembled about to witness our activities. Overhead, a blanket of brown bracken and gorse rises toward the rocky hill of Carn Kenidjack, the imposing rock outcrop that overshadows the open horizon. At night, this moorland is reputed to be visited by supernatural beings, and reportedly a dark rider ventures forth in search of lost souls.

Unconcerned by potential otherworldly danger, we gaze seawards, in the direction of the distant forms on the horizon that are the far-off Isles of Scilly. The overcast crack open and a flood of golden light falls over the islands. My guide, researcher Carolyn Kennett, and I exclaim. It is breathtaking natural theatre which may have been experienced by the people who erected this circle 4,000 years ago.

A Prehistoric Midwinter Vista

We have come together at Tregeseal to discuss the year's turning point. The focus of her studies examines the interplay of the region's ancient past with the heavens, and she portrays the entire Land’s End peninsula as an prehistoric midwinter ceremonial ground. This, she notes, is because of the backbone of Cornish stone that runs toward the southwest along the peninsula, aligned with the solstice sunset. If, for example, you position yourself at winter solstice by Chûn Quoit – the mushroom-shaped burial chamber upon the moors south of Morvah – you will see the sun set over the distinctive tor on the western horizon. And in all likelihood this is just as Chûn Quoit’s Neolithic builders intended.

"Where better to celebrate the rebirth of the sun than on the Penwith peninsula, which is oriented toward the setting point of the sun on the year’s shortest day?"

It is proposed that this ancient monument was deliberately sited to allow people to view the midwinter sun setting behind the Isles of Scilly. “Viewed from here, Scilly is a liminal space. On a bright day with stable weather, the isles look close up and just seem to leap out. On other days, they’re simply not there. The ancient people could have perceived Scilly as an otherworldly place, possibly a place of the dead, linked to the midwinter and the renewal of the light.”

Enigmatic Stones and Light Beams

We pick our way through the darkening copper-colored moor past Bronze Age barrows and piles of industrial waste to a enigmatic structure, which may be the UK’s only prehistoric alignment of holed stones. In contrast to the stone at the famous holed stone a few miles away, it’s not feasible to pass through the stones at Kenidjack; these apertures are barely big enough to fit my hand through and extremely close to the ground. Experts remain baffled.

A proposed explanation is that the series might have worked as a kind of winter solstice countdown calendar, with the morning sun passing through the holes from autumn until December and casting different rays of sunlight in the stones’ shadows. “Sensing the heat of that golden beam of sunlight in the cold, dark moor gave me a profound understanding of how ancient communities might have marked midwinter,” she says.

Too many ancient sites are oriented to the rising or setting of the sun at the solstices for it to be a chance. It makes sense that prehistoric farmers, who needed the sun for illumination, warmth and the cultivation of crops, would want to follow the sun’s movement. But in the 21st century, the short days of this time of year still affects our moods, and so we anticipate the midwinter, that darkest day of all before the sunlit time begin to lengthen again.

Enduring Monoliths and Contemporary Celebrations

A chilly breeze is whipping, and strange cries emanate from invisible cows as I tramp through damp clover to make a pilgrimage the solitary monolith, keeping watch as it has done for millennia above the peninsula’s south coast. It is just one of many of ancient monoliths that stand alone or in alignments all over the peninsula; less than a mile away are the famous petrified dancers, dancers turned to stone for breaking the Sabbath. I think about how long the stone has remained here, witnessing its vista of the Celtic Sea and English Channel: where once ancient boats would have sailed, now container ships and the island boat travel through.

"This midwinter event brings back the historic practice of disguised performance, with its detailed outfits, seasonal songs and music of traditional instruments."

Christopher Morris’s captivating film, chronicling a full year in the life of this stone, emphasizes the power of its still and silent existence in the ever-changing landscape. “And I deliberately opened and closed the film with midwinter,” he says, “because it is a time of unadulterated optimism – the assurance of the ending of gloom and a bright new year ahead.”

On the winter solstice, all over the peninsula, people will be observing midwinter by walking to stone circles, sacred springs, hill forts and ancient beacons. Guided walks will be organized to observe the sunset. Many will make their way to ancient stones in a sort of ceremony of reflection and renewal. Later, thousands will congregate into Penzance for Montol, a winter celebration that {dates only to|was established in|originated in