“I stand upon a windswept ridge, listening to the murmurs of the wind. I waver and merge with the light and shadows, becoming one with everything surrounding me.”
– Bhuwan Thapaliya
So, that annotation on a map I mentioned in my last post? Turns out we did have time for a quick drive up the road to investigate. Just half a mile up the road from the stone circle, the map shows an impressive looking fort. We did check to make sure we wouldn’t have to walk up those torturous looking contours (I still had tired legs from dancing through the heather at our last stop!)
We stopped at the side of the road where there was an information board. Just over the fence was an incredibly obvious set of ditches circling an area of moorland. Thanks to the absolute joy of the Scottish right to roam*, we could walk through the gate in the fence line and make our way into the hillfort** proper.
*It will never cease to amaze me that the public is allowed to walk pretty much anywhere (obviously there are some exceptions) in Scotland.
**a hillfort just means an enclosed area, nothing to do with the traditional military concept of a fort.
Three deep furrows deeply score the hillside, curving protectively around a desolate hilltop of heather and rough grass. Beyond them, the ground falls away precipitously towards a tiny burn. It seems inconceivable that such a tiny thread of water could carve such a decisive chasm through the landscape. How did the inhabitants of this hill fort get water? It must have been a full time job to trail buckets up and down the steep ravine. I can’t help feeling that maybe women and children bore the brunt of that task.
The site is thought to date to somewhere between 740-390 BC, although there is also some evidence of inhabitation during the Neolithic period. A recent-ish excavation (2013) found the remains of twenty seven platforms, likely the bases of timber roundhouses within the enclosed area.
The whole site is covered in bilberry plants (Vaccinium myrtillus) whose leaves are glowing a warm, pinkish red in the sunlight. No berries at this time of year, and in any case, the rabbits and sheep would probably have got there first.
The folds of hillside across the burns have been softly coloured in greens, browns and golds. On one hill, a swathe of bracken has been cleared, creating a golden runway. Not that I’d want to ever take off or land from it … looks like it’d be a bumpy ride!
We head back to the car and make our way home for lunch and a warm brew. We’ve earned it. And at least I don’t have to scramble down a cliff to get the water.
absolutelynotnormal 