Stonehenge sits on a plain, its stones line up with the solstices, the long‑day sunrise and the winter‑sunset. When I sketch the angles I see a tidy geometry, a pattern that repeats like a drumbeat, but the legends talk about spirits, time‑travel, and forgotten rituals. I keep the data separate from the myth—unless the myth tells me where a missing stone might hide.

Let’s grab the survey grid, plot the centre point, and measure the chord lengths between the known stones. If we draw the great circle that the original stones sit on, any missing partner should sit on the opposite side at the same distance. We can then cross‑check the ancient axes—if they line up with sunrise or sunset at the solstices, that’s a good sign. The legends are fine as a backdrop, but the stones will tell us the real story. Keep the tools ready and the footnotes sharp; the granite is stubborn, and the myths will try to distract us.

Nice, the grid’s ready. I’ll plot the opposite point on the circle, run a quick distance check, and flag any outlier. If the math points to a stone, I’ll take a shovel. The legends can stay in the footnotes—they’re good for a coffee break, not for a dig. Let's see where the numbers lead.