An English Summer 48

 

Newfoundland, America, the nearest land, lies two thousand miles west, of Bryher's seaward shore. Across the mighty Atlantic Ocean. With its power to grind seashell to fine sand; and to sculpt granite into rounded pebbles and fantastical spires.

Ashore, the forces of wind and time are no less artistically creative. Although more angular in their approach.

Everywhere, raw, monumental granite, erupts. . . . 

. . . .through a luxuriant, chest high, clothing of foliage, as spiny as it is colourful.

Small wonder then, that, according to  Historic England , neolithic and iron age religious monuments, uniquely  'on the Isles of Scilly, often incorporate natural outcrops in their fabric.' Why build a monument, when the work has already been done for you?

This is the, disturbed, remains of a circular burial cairn, on the granite outcrop known as Top Rock, at the summit of Samson Hill.

An, earlier, entrance tomb is built into the south west face, of the same outcrop, using it as one of its walls. The verdant heath, and Bryher's 'leave it natural' approach, combine to mask the site. But the, darkly glossy leaved, germander bush marks the entrance. Thorns precluding a closer investigation.

Certainly the location fits the ancient pattern: High on a cliff, looking out to sea, above a prominent headland. There are said to be more such tombs, on Gweal Hill. But I could not locate them, amid the dense undergrowth. Although I did fancy, that a jutting germander bush, set before a granite outcrop, may have been the Silver Carn chamber grave. The gorse, however, tamed any Indiana Jones tendencies in me.

Whether man made, natural, or a bit of both, Bryher's sculptural, untamed, vistas cast their spell. Combining the rawest of sights. . . . 

. . . . with the softest of sights.