The northernmost circle of standing stones in Britain, The Ring of Brodgar, rests on a heather-mottled hill above the windy banks of the Loch of Harray in Orkney. I came upon it in the afternoon, when the sun intermittently glowed through fast-moving clouds, illuminating the ancient lichens in gold and grey. Some four-thousand years old, the arrangement is unusual for its size and circular pattern. I pressed my ear to one to see if it might yield forgotten voices or an Outlander-esque journey, but all I could hear was the wind. I suppose it’s just as well; I shouldn’t like to be stranded on Orkney centuries ago. But the stones are enchanting.