The Skelligs and County Kerry, Ireland
The Skelligs. The Rocks. Fingers, sharp and rugged reach for high gray clouds. From a distance neither island looks inviting and close-up the impression changes little. And yet, there on the steepest face of the Great Skellig or Skellig Mhichél is carved a perfect stairway leading up and up to the highest ledge. Here could be seen the 1500 year old remains of St. Finian’s Abbey. Waves crashed upon the rocks beneath and the wind whipped cold. One could imagine the spartan lifestyle of the monks who called this home long ago. Few humans would choose these forbidding shores today. But that which is shunned by one species is cherished by others. Curtains of green tumble down the valleys of the largest of the skelligs. Hundreds of comical rotund forms with colorful beaks stand guard at their burrow entrances. Their take-off is labored, a sudden descent but rapid flapping of stubby short wings lifts the puffins skyward to carry them out to sea in search of nourishment. Their relatives, the guillemots follow from the lower rocky shores. White delineates each ledge defining bedding planes of old red sandstone on both islands. Thousands upon thousands of gannets gather to renew their bonds and increase their population numbers. Against the dark seas their crisp white plumage seems to glow and light up the golden wash upon their crowns. Theirs is no labored flight but strong and powerful with sudden torpedo-like dives from high. Kittiwakes choose the sharpest faces of these cliffs, because the isolation gives protection to their developing young. Food, shelter and space, all that is needed to live, is provided by the Great Skellig and Little Skellig which sit at the hind foot of bear shaped Ireland.
We proceeded from isolation to civilization, from the wave sculpted cliffs of the islets to glacially rounded lands. It took little imagination to pull the thin blanket of turf from the bedrock beneath to expose tremendous grooves left behind as massive ice sheets slowly moved across this land. The valleys were scooped and scoured to U-shaped forms, now filled with rivers and lakes. From Ladies’ View, a scenic stop on the Ring of Kerry, we likely used the same verbal expressions of awe as Queen Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting did more than a hundred and fifty years ago. The grand 19th century mansion, Muckross House is found on the shores below. Now a museum the estate offered something for everyone. Inside we admired the décor and many period pieces. Outside pink rhododendrons bloomed. Walkways wandered throughout the 11,000 acre grounds. Massive old oaks and chestnuts stretched their branches horizontally, inviting perches for tiny white-cheeked Great Tits or the original Robin redbreast. Magpies and Hooded Crows strutted beneath. Ivy painted rock walls deep green and where they missed orange lichens filled the space. Bluebells carpeted the forest floor.
The next stop was town. Kenmare bustled as the business day drew to a close. Blue skies finally appeared and the sun painted the trees at the edge of the sea a golden green as we boarded our Zodiacs bound for sustenance and rest.
The Skelligs. The Rocks. Fingers, sharp and rugged reach for high gray clouds. From a distance neither island looks inviting and close-up the impression changes little. And yet, there on the steepest face of the Great Skellig or Skellig Mhichél is carved a perfect stairway leading up and up to the highest ledge. Here could be seen the 1500 year old remains of St. Finian’s Abbey. Waves crashed upon the rocks beneath and the wind whipped cold. One could imagine the spartan lifestyle of the monks who called this home long ago. Few humans would choose these forbidding shores today. But that which is shunned by one species is cherished by others. Curtains of green tumble down the valleys of the largest of the skelligs. Hundreds of comical rotund forms with colorful beaks stand guard at their burrow entrances. Their take-off is labored, a sudden descent but rapid flapping of stubby short wings lifts the puffins skyward to carry them out to sea in search of nourishment. Their relatives, the guillemots follow from the lower rocky shores. White delineates each ledge defining bedding planes of old red sandstone on both islands. Thousands upon thousands of gannets gather to renew their bonds and increase their population numbers. Against the dark seas their crisp white plumage seems to glow and light up the golden wash upon their crowns. Theirs is no labored flight but strong and powerful with sudden torpedo-like dives from high. Kittiwakes choose the sharpest faces of these cliffs, because the isolation gives protection to their developing young. Food, shelter and space, all that is needed to live, is provided by the Great Skellig and Little Skellig which sit at the hind foot of bear shaped Ireland.
We proceeded from isolation to civilization, from the wave sculpted cliffs of the islets to glacially rounded lands. It took little imagination to pull the thin blanket of turf from the bedrock beneath to expose tremendous grooves left behind as massive ice sheets slowly moved across this land. The valleys were scooped and scoured to U-shaped forms, now filled with rivers and lakes. From Ladies’ View, a scenic stop on the Ring of Kerry, we likely used the same verbal expressions of awe as Queen Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting did more than a hundred and fifty years ago. The grand 19th century mansion, Muckross House is found on the shores below. Now a museum the estate offered something for everyone. Inside we admired the décor and many period pieces. Outside pink rhododendrons bloomed. Walkways wandered throughout the 11,000 acre grounds. Massive old oaks and chestnuts stretched their branches horizontally, inviting perches for tiny white-cheeked Great Tits or the original Robin redbreast. Magpies and Hooded Crows strutted beneath. Ivy painted rock walls deep green and where they missed orange lichens filled the space. Bluebells carpeted the forest floor.
The next stop was town. Kenmare bustled as the business day drew to a close. Blue skies finally appeared and the sun painted the trees at the edge of the sea a golden green as we boarded our Zodiacs bound for sustenance and rest.
