THE HANDSTAND

OCTOBER 2003


Out on Aran

We rented a small chalet in "Oatquarter," which is near the very middle of the 17 km long island, Inis Mór. Out on Aran, one almost looses a sense of time except for the increasing awareness of the unfolding cycles of nature that occur all around one. The waves break against the shoreline, receding across the disrupted surface of the limestone and flowing back into the sea, the full moon, growing bigger in the night sky, pulling and pushing the oceans into higher and lower states.


During our first week there was a spectacular lightening storm that crossed from the south west of the island. The following day we went down to the north shore, just below our chalet, to watch the large waves as they curled around the top of the island and rolled in towards us. The waves were like a mass of animals with fiery mains that blew back against the oncoming wind. The resulting fine misty spray appeared like fire on the tops of the waves, sending a column of smoke into the air.


It was an elemental image of the strength of the sea, as the waves come crashing down on the shore. Several big waves rolled in at once, and then, there was a little lull before the next group unleashed their mighty energy on the rocks. After the first week of unsettled skies and sea, we experienced two weeks of completely unobstructed skies, intense sun light and soft morning mists that burned away into afternoon heat. The natural limestone pavement that covers the island reflected the light and there was a bright glare, so then the blue expansive of ocean was a soothing refuge for the eyes.


A shower of rain transformed this in a moment and the limestone rock quickly turned to a deep glistening grey-blue, and for a short time the landscape was shrouded by a covering of water that soaked up the sunlight. At such times, one is completely aware of the process of change in the landscape. It was only in the final days that the haze burned away and revealed the existence of a mainland. For much of the month, the haze had obscured the mainland, so it was possible to feel a complete sense of wonderful isolation from everything. The mainland becomes a concept that is banished from the mind! The regular departure of the ferry was a sole reminder, but as it disappeared into nothingness, I felt that the main land was very far off indeed.


These islands were created when this part of the world was submerged below sea level at the equator 250 million years ago. The debris of sea life combined with calcium and carbon to be later consolidated into limestone. Later tectonic movements raised the land above the ocean and it began to assume its present form over millions of years of erosion. As the island is composed of many different layers of limestone, sediment at different times, one can observe a process of erosion that is unique. The different layers, which are separated by shale, are eroded at different rates, leaving large terraces of limestone exposed to the elements and upper layers that are pealed away by a weathering process. The rugged limestone surface of Inis Mór is covered with a system of vertical parallel fissures that are the result of splits in the rock caused by tectonic movements. They are continually cut deeper by rain water, and sometimes the horizontal cross sections, which are at right angles to the fissures, break away to create what is called a "Karstic" landscape.


This makes the terrain difficult to navigate, as there are a lot of holes and sharp protrusions all over the limestone surface. On the lower sea terraces the effect is different, as the sea has a more smoothing effect on the limestone pavement. In fact these layers were once better preserved with a coating of clay and shale, and now one can observe an undulating expanse of rock with smooth curves and bowl shaped rock pools. This mamillated surface is one of the most interesting erosion effects that demonstrate a time when the ground was above sea level, and a different layer of matter was deposited on the surface.  At a later period this rock was again submerged under the seas and another layer of limestone was sedimented above. It is on these lower sea terraces that the bands of shale are best observed.


At the bottom of such a limestone layer, close to where it meets the shale, there is a very high density of fossil shells. One of the most interesting of the sea terraces leads towards the famous "worm hole" (a huge rectangular shape formed by natural erosion). Beyond the worm hole there is outcrop of rock that juts out into the sea, and from this low point one can look up at the cliffs stretching away to the west. It is here that I noticed the sculptural disposition of the land and the way that the layers can be traced all the way along the cliffs from right to left, making a sort of dip down into the sea, as the eye travels further westerly. When I looked east from this point, I saw the shoulder of the hill rising to the highest point on the island I thought that it looked like a massive stranded flat topped box, slightly inclined to one side.


It is really enjoyable to walk along the coast, always sticking to the shore when possible, and exploring as many of the terraces that it is possible to get down to. At low tide they become more accessible and many of the interesting rock pools are revealed. The sun light is caught in these translucent bowls, illuminating the rich colours of a marine environment.  The south coast is made up of cliffs, as the different layers (that tilt 15 degrees to the south) and all reach an abrupt end. On the north side of the island there is a series of escarpments that are much more gradual, as the landscape drops down gently to the shoreline. Along the north ridges and escarpments humans have made their habitations. The shore is slightly more difficult to traverse by foot because of the numerous storm beaches made up of boulders that are sometimes rounded into smaller beach cobbles. In the middle of the island is a little beach, which forms an inlet, looking across at the
mountains in Connemara.


It is on the more exposed south coast that it is possible to find solitude away from other human beings. The erosion of the sea has made inroads into the island. At the east and west ends of the island are storm beaches made from huge boulders that were once torn out of the cliffs by savage winter storms and hurled upwards onto the limestone terrace. They are like stranded objects that are in time broken down into smaller objects and sculptured by nature. On the higher cliffs this effect is visible only at low tide, as the boulders sit pristinely at the bottom of the cliffs.  It is as if they were discarded by some passing giant who picked away at the cliffs. The most magical of all places on Aran is "Bun gabhla," where the island ends in a great desert of limestone that looks out on two small uninhabited islands and a lighthouse. The road curves along the mountainside past the very last vestiges of humanity, on to an area where the road appears to be engulfed by a surrounding pavement of naked stone on both sides. At the end, this pathway disappears down into the waves on a slip that is used to launch fishermen's boats into water.

The surface of the island conveys history, in much the same manner as the lines on the human face tell a story of a person. This history is much older and covers a much greater expanse of time. In Aran, there are two processes at work: this natural erosion and also the profound effect of the human beings. The island is criss-crossed by an elaborate network of stone walls that are a powerful physical representation of the effect of people on the natural landscape.

While the island has probably been inhabited since 2500 BC, this is only a blip in history. The sculptural sense of the place is the history of change. This occurs too slowly for most people to care about. On Aran we are often reminded not only of the history of the people but also the changes wrought in the natural landscape. It is interesting to observe the fossils and realise how infinitesimal and unimportant the human being is.


Another aspect is the
granite erratics that were deposited and stranded by the last ice age,
and which tell yet another part of vast natural history of the island.
These large mounds of rock are like huge static sculptures that are set
in the landscape in a rather alien way, looking as if they were dropped
from the sky. This alters the sense of passing time, and a whole day can
become just a short walk to the cliff and back. It was in this way that
we spent an entire month observing rocks, watching the sea and taking
photos.

© March 2003, Rory Braddell.