Stonehenge and the Spring Equinox

A Short Pilgrimage through Neolithic Wiltshire

My alarm went off at 4.15am and I crept downstairs, careful not to wake the rest of my family. It was the morning of the Spring Equinox 2026 and I’d made the decision the night before that this would be the year I’d make the trip on foot to nearby Stonehenge for the sunrise. Like for the solstices, the site is opened up for visitors free of charge for the morning, where visitors can get up close to the stones and I’d planned out a small local walking pilgrimage to various local sites which had historical significance to neolithic people for afterwards. I had a few hours before I had to be home for the school run, so I got up early, packed light and set off.

The forecast had predicted clear skies and as I left my car in central Amesbury I could see stars in the dark, early morning sky. It was freezing cold with frost on the ground and I was very pleased I’d made the decision to take my woolly hat and down jacket. I headed out into the cold along Amesbury high street, crossing the mist covered river Avon at Queensbury Bridge and from there, I headed north along Stonehenge Road (yes, it’s really called that).

I’d expected to see other people walking this route from Amesbury as during the solstices, many people park up in Amesbury and take this pre-sunrise route to the stones, but this morning, I had the route entirely to myself which for an introvert like me, was quite a pleasant surprise. English Heritage open up access to Stonehenge for the Equinox but it doesn’t quite have the same significance for many people compared to the solstice, and tends to attract a smaller crowd. I’ve written about the solstice experience at Stonehenge in my short story “The Green Man’s Toast” in my anthology “Midnight and Other Short Stories” and how the crowds of the solstice can feel a little overwhelming but I was hoping the equinox would bring a quieter, more reflective experience.

As the sun approached the horizon behind me, I was treated to glorious reds and oranges in the almost clear sky with the dawn chorus acting as a backdrop. I usually walk with headphones listening to podcasts or audiobooks and sometimes, I just turn on the noise cancelling enjoy the muffled quiet. However, for the journey this morning, I purposefully left them at home as I wanted the natural sounds of the morning to accompany me. That worked great until I reached the A303, which even at 5.30am, was loud with traffic but I didn’t need to endure that long before the stones rose up on the horizon on the other side.

I picked my moment between the HGVs heading west, and nipped across, arriving at the stones about twenty minutes before sunrise. There was a reasonably small, but committed crowd within the stone circle and as I approached, I could hear singing and the sounds of drums as people waited for the sun to make its appearance over the horizon.

I found myself a quiet spot on the outside circle and people watched while I waited. I love how people can feel the freedom to express their individuality at events like this and there were wonderful variety of customs on display. It’s the only time that English Heritage let you walk up to an in between the stones and it’s at these times where you realise exactly how big they are. They tower above you and you can see all of the historic graffiti that’s been carved into them over the years.

Thankfully, no-one carves their names into the stones anymore (I hope) but I was still uncomfortable the way some people were treating the stones. Some were climbing all over them, trying to get the best camera angles to record the sunrise and I can’t help thinking that we should show the stones more respect than that. My personal view is that they shouldn’t be touched and I made sure I looked with my eyes and not with my hands or feet.

Despite this, the atmosphere was electric and all around me were the sounds of chanting and cheering along with the steady but varying drumbeats. Many burned incense or bundles of herbs and there were many scents I didn’t recognise amongst the very distinct and very familiar, sweeter smells which reminded me vividly of my university days.

When the sunrise came, it was genuinely glorious. It was the kind of sunrise you see on TV or read about and so rarely get to experience yourself and any tiredness or lingering doubt I had about making the journey was dispelled instantly. It was a privilege to witness and we were so lucky to have such a perfect morning that brought out all the colours you could imagine.

I stayed for thirty or so minutes more to soak in the atmosphere and I spent some time enjoying the rare experience of wandering around the stones, but I had to be back for 8am and I had the rest of my pilgrimage to get to. There is a nearby archaeological site called Durrington Walls that I wanted to visit, located about three miles east of Stonehenge. It is thought that the builders of Stonehenge likely lived in the settlement that once stood there. I had the plan to recreate what could’ve been the journey of one of these people over 5000 years ago. So, I left the crowds to their revelry and headed east along the Avenue, an ancient pathway discovered in the 18th century, which connects Stonehenge to the river Avon. Like with my walk to the stones, I had this all to myself as well. Most people heading home were walking the opposite direction to pick up their cars at the visitors centre, about twenty minutes walk west and it looked like I was only one heading east.

As I walked, I was surrounded by rolling fields and grazing sheep and I could hear the drumbeats fading and the sounds of the early morning birds and wildlife returning.

I was also moving away from the busy A303 and while I could still hear the traffic, it was at least relegated to a distant rumble. The first landmark you reach when walking east is The King Barrow Ridge, which consists to two main groups of bronze age burial mounds. I didn’t linger here though as I took the path heading north towards the village of Larkhill. It was still freezing cold and despite the rising sun beginning to burn away the early morning frost, my woolly hat stayed firmly on my head.

After reaching Larkhill, I turned back east and entered the area that once contained the vast Neolithic settlement of Durrington Walls. Dating to around 2500 BCE, evidence suggests it was a busy seasonal village, with remains of houses, hearths, and a huge amount of animal bones, leading many to believe that this was a place of feasting and celebration as well as simply living. One conjecture is that the nearby timber circle, Woodhenge was used by neolithic people as a pilgrimage site to honour the living, with Stonehenge used to honour the dead. The thought is, that people would visit both, then return for feasting and celebration back at the Durrington Walls settlement. However, like much of neolithic history, we’ll never know for sure, but it’s a theory that resonates with me personally and something I wanted to pay homage to, so I made sure my journey home took in both of these sites.

The sun was fully up by the time I reached Woodhenge and I could see the edge of Durrington Walls on my left. It was almost 7.30am by this time but I took a few moments to have a wander around Woodhenge. As it was a timber circle, there’s nothing original left and only small, concrete posts mark where each timber would have stood so you have to use your imagination to its full extent to get an idea of what it would’ve been like, but it felt easier knowing I’d followed in the footsteps of a neolithic builder.

By the time I got back to my car and drove back home, my family was up and getting ready for school and work, and I was straight back into the usual rhythm of the day, but in reflection, I’m so pleased I took the time to make this solo journey. It was a simple thing but an important one for me to honour the people who are no longer with us but also as a reminder of the importance of the people that are.

It was also a reminder to me that with everything going on in the world, it’s the simple things that can still be the most profound.