A striking development in the Shrine of the Immaculate Confection, in Hyannis Port. The head has now been somewhat awkwardly reunited with the body, and the whole thing has tilted alarmingly. This lends credence to my niece's theory that the head was propping the statue up:
At this rate, I'm expecting the fairy to close its book and walk away at any time. I also think the bottle looked better than the actual head.
For those of you who remember the Hyannis Port Mystery, I showed the pix to my family on Thanksgiving. My niece pointed out that the original head was right there in the tree with the statue, which I had overlooked:
Meanwhile, somebody has stolen the replacement head. Don't know why. It was empty:
There was a guy on the corner with a bunch of recycling bins on a trailer (they evidently only recycle once a year in Hyannis Port, but they make a pretty big deal out of it). Maybe he took the spare head.
So there I was, driving through Hyannis Port, doing my job, minding my own business, when out out the corner of my eye I saw:
I actually drove past this at first, but backed up to get a better look:
That's a little Smirnoff nip for a head. Clearly somebody had waaaaay too much fun this weekend.
From Time Immemorial, the Summer tribes that migrate through this area have built submegalithic ceremonial structures out at the end of Long Beach. Cairns, stone circles, columns, whatever it takes to appease the voracious gods of these vagabonds, these they have built.
The Winter gods don't much care for the submegaliths. Or maybe they're miffed that the ceremonies and offerings stop with the changing season. For whatever reason, the waves and tides of Autumn and beyond disarrange the monuments, and they must be rebuilt each summer.
I seldom see the construction. When I walk the beach, it's usually with the Mutts, and the Mutts are forbidden from May 15 to September 15. We took our first stroll on September 15, but it was dark and we didn't see anything. Thursday the 16th the tide was way up and the surf was rough, so we didn't go all the way to the end.
Saturday afternoon was lovely and peaceful, and all the other dogs were near the beginning of the beach, so Gus and JoJo and I were all untethered and frolicking down to the far end, where the channel runs into East Bay.
This Summer the nomads outdid themselves and built an actual henge. Since Gus and JoJo were the first of our civilization to see it, we decided to name it Mutthenge:
| Mutthenge |
The four trilithons are situated roughly on the Northeast, Northwest, Southwest and Southeast sides of the henge. The big altar in the middle is about two and a half feet high. I neither know nor care what this is in centimeters. The trilithons appear to be oriented so the largest is opposite the large cairn known locally as the Pile o' Rocks:
If you squat down low enough to look through the Northwest, or biggish, trilithon, pretty much all you can see is the altar, and beyond that, the Pile o' Rocks. What significance this may have for the Summer people is anybody's guess. Maybe they were just sick of looking at the water. Further excavations may reveal what, if any ceremonies or sacrifices were performed here. So far, none of the usual biirkanz or ziggaratbutz associated with these sites have been found.
Incidentally, when I say Time Immemorial, I mean Time Immemorial. While Mutthenge is the newest submagalithic structure found on the site, there's a stone circle about 200 feet away that's been being rebuilt since long before any member of our civilization was around to record it. There used to be evidence of some sort of fire ceremony that was carried on here, but that's been gone for ages now.
| The Ancient Stone Circle |
If anybody knows the purpose of these structures, please don't hesitate to write. Meanwhile, I'll track the annual dissipation of the submegaliths, and if I learn anything interesting, I'll report.
