Stone Circle They speak

The seer stones were weaved through as orange autumn light spilled behind their faces.

The mans silhouette often lost catch of the sun when he moved behind them, only to reappear to move to another.

There were those put to rest here that had no names. Somehow put under these very stones that stood high as the pillars they made their own names out of, but the ones that came before them had lost their own. Once someone's memory. Now visited by strangers who knew not of their ages or stories. They knew nothing about them at all.

Bonnie visited them.