Once upon a Time in Caithness

Do you ever have one of those moments when your mind releases its shackles and drops its blinkers and you realise just how miniscule you really are? Like when a loved one dies and the knowledge hits you in waves of clarity that we all die. Our lives here are merely a breath in the essence of eternity.

Caithness has a knack of waking me up and transporting me to a larger perspective. Surrounded by history and fragments of lives gone by, we are confronted with the remnants of previous eras. Walk in any direction in Caithness and you will see wisps of lives once lived gathering at the graves, the burial chambers, the castles and in the abandoned crofts.

This became even more apparent to me last weekend as I stood inside the Camster Cairns.  Five thousand years ago Neolithic man would have crawled through dark, narrow tunnels and done exactly the same. And for five thousand years those chambers have withstood an altering landscape, climate change and shifts of patterns of people. But crawl inside and it is like climbing inside the all- Seeing Eye where time stands still. Inside these chambers is where we lose track of time and yet find a piece of it.

And as we drive across Caithness, under her expansive skies, we cannot escape decay, yet that is not necessarily a negative thing. For every crumbling landmark is a stake of previous victory, abundance and success. I am thinking about rugged Sinclair Girnigoe  that sits now, quietly, on its cliff-side precipice and how it was developed over several centuries; each additional brick adding to the layers of progression and protection. If like me, you visit, turn off all distractions and inhale the damp, sea air, you will be transported to a previous life, perhaps as a servant living in the cramped servant’s quarters or as an Earl sitting in front of the fire, sated in power.

And now we drive back down the road, towards Lybster and are transported yet again to another era, a few hundred years later when we visit an abandoned croft. This one lies within the depths of Rumster Forest.  Follow the track up to the mast and then down the hill it will bring you to two old trees by a small burn. A lot of the forest has been cleared behind the croft now so you will get a clearer picture of what life was like living in this remote area. Sit and lean against the crumbling wall. Can you hear the small bairns running around and the cattle grazing lazily in the surrounding fields? What changes have these walls witnessed? Who lived here? Why did they go? Choose any deserted croft in Caithness and these unanswered questions will hang in the air.

And now to add to the patchwork, let me take you into the Mausoleum at the deserted Mains of Ulbster. Catch it in the golden sunlight as the sun disappears as it becomes strangely eerie and desolate, surrounded by graves.  Which family lay here quietly slumbering? Do they see the shadows hitting the derelict Mains walls marking the end of another day?

And now lastly, let’s go back up to our iconic Duncansby Stacks. We don’t just have to look to manmade structures to be struck with the notion of impermanence.  Fearless and enduring, for years these immense stacks have been impressing travellers and locals alike. As we stand and drink in the majestic view and a piece of rock cascades into the sea, we are reminded again that nothing is permanent. Seconds tick and time passes, that we are certain of. But we are here now. This is OUR time, OUR place and OUR moment. What stories will you leave whispering in the breeze and implanted on this landscape?