The Aborigines XII

It's somewhat odd in stories by H.P. Lovecraft how old stone masonry so terrifies his protagonists. The henge in this picture evokes thoughts of ancient mystery with their enormity, both in reality and in how they are framed. They dominate a little more than the lower half of the shot at an angle where you can see just enough space and shadow between them to tell them apart but not nearly enough to let the stones look skinny. The ground, if it's even there, is excluded from the shot, leaving only the mighty henge and the light-diffusing, time-stopping cloud cover that they rise into. The shot, unless quite expertly taken, is desaturated to remove any rogue harmonics of the present day. Finally, three dark birds sit atop the henge. One looking straight at the camera, one seemingly hiding its face, and the last gazing out of frame into what could be the eyes of an ancient being or a dark future to come.