For millennia, the plotting of the sun and stars has been an integral part of the human experience. Over years, decades and centuries, eyes drawn toward darkened skies detected consistent patterns in the movement of celestial objects. Civilizations created ways to chart the skies, and made decisions, planted crops, told stories and conceived children - all based on the movement of the heavens.

Two of the Four gates in the stellar circle

  The earth's skies are no longer as dark as they once were - a fate sealed by the invention of the electric light. And while we rely more on designer watches, graying hairs and monthly mortgage payments to mark the passage of time these days, in an open field not far from Sag Harbor, there lies a newly created celestial calendar - one that uses no electricity or fuel to mark time's passage.

  Inspired by Stonehenge, that ancient paean of all astral clocks, it is known as Woodhenge, and is situated on an acre or so of land in a back field at Channing Daughters Winery on Scuttle Hole Road in Bridgehampton.

  Circular in shape and mowed in concentric rings to resemble a crop circle, Woodhenge features posts that mark its center and the circumference as well as rustic arches with lanterns that point out the four directions. More posts and lanterns are placed well beyond the confines of the circle to help point the way in the night sky.

Rings around the omphalos...

  Created by astrologer Don Cerow, Woodhenge is not only a celestially accurate time piece, it is also a sculptural garden, and placed throughout the circular site are several of winery owner Walter Channing's massive wooden sculptures created from dead trees.

Looking to the horizon using the poles

  Much of Channing's artwork involves inverting trees to point their tangle of roots heavenward. The winery's logo, an image of an inverted tree, graces the label of each bottle of wine Channing Daughters produces.

  "I like the under part of trees," confirms Channing. "It's the unfamiliar part of the tree. I clear it out and find what's there."

  And sure enough, striding through Woodhenge like giant Druids called to ritual is Channing's "Three Sisters" - a trio of huge upside down oak trees with root system exposed and two massive leg-like trunks anchoring them to the earth.

The Tree Sisters striding into Woodhenge for a gathering of the Ents

  "The sisters are trees that grew from two acorns that germinated into one," explains Channing. "Often they are structurally weakened and go down."

  "I see them as a mother and two daughters," he adds. "That's a family configuration I seem to have found myself in before."

  Interestingly enough, Channing has used this field for his sculptures for 15 years, and their placement predates the creation of Woodhenge - yet somehow they feel like an integral part of the construction.

  "Woodhenge is a good coincidence," notes Channing. "It's pagan - like a lot of my work."

  Just beyond Woodhenge's boundaries, a giant dead tree lay on its side. Its intact tangle of finger-like branches point to the east, while its massive feet of roots faces west, like a Druid corpse awaiting a cremation ceremony. It's bark has been completely stripped to prevent rot.

  The tree is actually Channing's latest sculptural masterpiece, and is lying in state, so to speak, until a large crane can be brought in to hoist the big oak skyward, roots first. The branches will nestle into a metal tripod that will support it.

North Pole and gate aligning with the North Star. Note candle lantern for nocturnal observation.

  Channing gets his dead trees from a variety of sources. Some come from the side of the road, others from his own back yard. When Channing moved to the property more than two decades ago, the land was open potato fields. Several young trees, including this one, were planted to provide shade around the house.

  "They grew very fast," he acknowledges. "This tree is about 25 years old. It was overwhelming the house."

  Channing also creates intricately carved works that tell the tales of his own personal mythology, such as his version of a sphinx consorting with an octopus.

  "That's the great thing about mythology," he says. "You can make up your own."

  In the months and years to come, Channing envisions adding more of his sculptures to Woodhenge. On June 22, the date of the recent summer solstice, Channing Daughters celebrated the official opening of Woodhenge and the sculptural garden.

  Like Channing's sculptures, the creation of Woodhenge didn't just happen overnight. Plotting and observation were key, and at sunrise on the solstice, Don Cerow marked the sun's position, ending five months of monitoring to perfect Woodhenge's alignment.

  The creation of Woodhenge officially began on January 28, 2002, the day Cerow sank the omphalos (Greek for belly button) - the stake that would mark the exact center of Woodhenge.

  "The moment I drove the stake, Jupiter was on the mid-heaven," says Cerow. "Astrologically, that's the point from which the community sees you. Jupiter is the planet of media."

  "It is the absolute middle. Everything flows from that point. I had watched the risings and settings of the sun and stars before I sunk it to see where I wanted it."

  Cerow chose the location for Woodhenge only after careful consideration. "The circumference best encapsulates the high ground," he explains. "By watching the horizons, I figured the best stellar vantage points."

  Next, Cerow reenacted a 21st century version of an activity the Egyptians called the "stretching of the cord." He tied a rope to a nail in the center of the omphalos, and pulled it taut to the shortest maxima - that is the closest point at which a manmade feature - in this case a dirt road - interfered. Cerow marked the spot on the rope, then walked in a circle around the omphalos to determine Woodhenge's eventual circumference.

  Next came the plotting of the cardinal points (known colloquially as north, south, east and west).

Ribbons flying

  "The first line up is north/south," says Cerow. "The north star is stable, so that axis was immediately established."

  "Finding east/west is more tricky. Stars are tough. They disappear in the haze at the horizon. So I pulled out my computer and saw when Mars was setting exactly due west. I dropped a site line with Mars, and then did the same in the East."

  While the view of the eastern sky is somewhat compromised by thick woods that border the Channing property, Woodhenge boasts sweeping views over the vineyard's fields to the western horizon.

  "Once I had the East line, I thinned the trees a bit so you can see the sun rise on the equinox."

Poles going up. Note tree getting ready to go up in background.

  With the primary directions established, Cerow's next task was to fill in the blanks. From February through June 22, he marked the sun's position on the days that fall midway between the solstices and equinox.

  "Once you have the cardinal points you have the framework," he says. "I went out on Ground Hogs or St. Brigid's Day. I watched where the sun came up and that was the first quarter day. I did the same on the equinox and on May Day - another quarter day.

  "On the summer solstice, the rise was 6 degrees short of where I saw it up over the tree line. Because I'm making this observational, you have to work with the terrain you have."

  Cerow has designed Woodhenge's circumference with 56 equally spaced posts - 4 of which match the cardinal points. This is the same number of posts in Stonehenge's Phase I, which is purported to have been installed in 3000 B.C. and lasted 50 to 100 years. The actual stones came later, and by 1500 A.D. Stonehenge had fallen into disuse.

  After years of study, much mystery remains surrounding the exact purpose of Stonehenge. And though he deals with things ethereal, Cerow is a pragmatist when it comes to explanations of earthbound observatories. He takes exception to those BBC documentaries that puzzle over the contradiction of Stonehenge's relatively small size and the belief that massive pagan ceremonies occurred there.

Note the shadows coming off the poles.

  "There's an obsession with processions," he says. "But they were there to find the time. They only needed a couple people. It was an observational site."

  While Stonehenge may or may not have been a place for intricate mass rituals, Channing Daughter's has definitely put Woodhenge to use on the social scale. In addition to the solstice event, throughout the year, Cerow leads visitors to Woodhenge for a mythological romp through the night sky. The vineyard often sets up telescopes and offers refreshments of wine and cider. The stargazing events have become quite popular and draw large crowds, even on cold winter nights.

  "The skies on the South Fork are incredible," says Cerow who lives at the edge of the Berkshires in western Massachusetts but travels here frequently to work on Woodhenge. "I've been almost stunned by the beauty here. What a wonderful place to bring heaven and earth together."

  Cerow plans to pay further homage to the natural world by planting flowers in the concentric circles surrounding the omphalos. And what sort of flower does he envision there?

  Cosmos, of course.