Walking in the footsteps of my Neolithic ancestors at Stonehenge, England, feeling strangely the last embers of an eerie power emanating from the sarsens and bluestones, I was determined to capture the natural power of this landscape. Above me, the tumultuous grey clouds gathering forbearing, beneath my feet the luscious green grass. Sandwiched in-between these mammoth boulders harnessing the natural power and posing the question - for what? Special to me behind every stone the echoes of a memory, fleeting visions of my Dad on a now long forgotten summer day. Those dark clouds echoing the emptiness without him by our side.