A special stone on the Braes
Derek Parker knew many of Paisley’s secrets – the grimy and the good.
He wandered every corner in search of the clues which would unlock Renfrewshire’s rich history.
These tales were shared with readers in his hugely popular Parker’s Way column.
We’ve opened our vault to handpick our favourites for you.
The Druid Stone is a familiar sight to Buddies who wander the scenic Gleniffer Braes between Glenburn Reservoir and Paisley Golf Course.
My first encounter with the rocky pillar came during a twilight ramble to commemorate the summer solstice.
It was a moon-gilded night vibrantly alive with the haunting hoots of hunting owls and the phantom, flitting forms of squeaking bats.
Silhouetted against the sable background of the star-studded sky, the massive monolith stood like a silent stony sentinel.
It surveys rush-robed moorlands crested with conifer clusters and sycamore stands sheltering shielings ruined and long abandoned by farming families who once lived there.
At other seasons, especially cold, freezing winter when spectral spirals of swirling mist mantle the melancholic moors, the enchanted stone conjures up ghosts of longdead men, women and children cultivating barley, rye and oats and tending cattle, sheep and goats.
This would have been during a prehistoric pastoral period when people lived in harmony with the land and worshipped the nature gods and goddesses of Paisley’s pagan pantheon.
The Druid Stone – known archaeologically as a menhir – is one of thousands in the British Isles believed to have been erected during the Bronze Age 3,000 to 4,000 years ago. Its origins are veiled in obscurity. It may have marked a primeval path followed by prehistoric craftsmen to copper deposits which were alloyed with tin to make bronze weapons, agricultural implements, domestic tools and jewellery.
It could have indicated a trade route trodden by primitive merchants who bartered their wares with countryside communities who lived in circular stone-walled huts roofed with branches and turf which dotted the Gleniffer Braes at the dawn of history.
If the stone was linked with the Druids – a prehistoric priesthood with prophetic powers – it could have fulfilled an important role in burial rituals.
Like the colourful totem poles of the North American Indians, it may have marked the centre of a circle where masses of grief-stricken mourners chanted and wailed as the incinerated remains of the dead were buried in urn-field cemeteries at the start of their long journey into the Otherworld and their incarnation into a new life.
The mysterious megalith could also have been a meridian marker to enable the Druids to chart the seasonal progress of the sun, moon, planets and stars across the heavens.
The white-robed priests would then know when the community should sow and harvest crops.
They would also be able to predict eclipses when religious ceremonies honouring the gods were most effective.
During the Reformation, many standing stones were destroyed by over-zealous churchmen who feared revered rocks encouraged pagan worship.
And more intensive farming meant many menhirs were smashed to provide land for grazing or growing crops. The rocky fragments were used to build walls, cottages and gateposts.
We may never know the true purpose of the Druid Stone on the Gleniffer Braes.
But we cherish it as a powerful memorial to a vanished way of life and as a monument to Paisley’s earliest inhabitants.