Skip to main content

Beacon Hill

All of a sudden, the island exploded.

The glow of molten rock lit up the night, as, with a sound like the cascading of a million marbles, the land slumped into the sea.  Chunks of stone shot into the air as if catapulted by a giant hand, and the ocean writhed as it was pelted by countless burning pebbles.  A great cloud of ash rose up, blackening the stars and blotting out the moon.

After a time, the turmoil ceased, and the island grew quiet again.  The ash settled silently on the surface of the sea.

Slowly, the dust and ash sank beneath the waves.  Down it drifted, down into the deep, and became rock again, pressed against the sea bed.  The feathery forms of ancient creatures fell too, and left their imprint.  Plants?  Animals?  Impossible to know.  Their kind long ago vanished from the earth.

Time passed.  Continents shifted.  Seas rose and fell.  The unstoppable movement of tectonic plates bent the rock, lifted it and shaped it, and finally made it part of a new island.  This one, eventually, was named.  The natives called it Britain.


One sunny Sunday in March, a family walked on Beacon Hill.  The three-year-old and his dad played hide and seek amongst the stacks of craggy rock, and drove toy cars over the warm weathered surface.  Mum found a secluded nook to feed the hungry baby, gazing out over the hazy green fields as he sucked.  A ladybird was discovered ascending the lichened heights, and captured for minute inspection.

Mountaineering.
Inspecting the ladybird.
Ferrari with ladybird brake light.
No, that's not me!
And as we scrambled and clambered and balanced, we had no inkling that we were touching some of the oldest known rocks in the world, formed in such a dramatic way over five hundred and fifty million years ago.

That's a long time!

This is meant to be a face in profile - can you see it?
(For more of the geology and pictures of fossils, see here)
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

One hundred churches

About the middle of January, I was walking to school one afternoon when it occurred to me that I must have visited quite a few churches on my explorations. I started counting them. But I quickly ran out of fingers, so when I got home I plotted them on Google Maps. Not only was the number much higher than I was expecting, it was also tantalisingly close to one hundred. Only a few dozen to go. So of course, every walk since then has had to include at least one church! Last Monday I visited my hundredth church: St John the Baptist, Dethick. It was a beautiful little 13-century building with an unusual tower - I was glad it had claimed the 100 spot. I haven't been inside every church. Sometimes they were locked; sometimes I was in a hurry and didn't try the door. St Leonard's Church in Alton had bellringers practicing, and I almost interrupted a funeral when I stuck my head through the door of St Mary's, Marston-on-Dove. A few, such as St Oswald's, Ashbourne, and St Wys...
Post a Comment
Read more

Derwent Valley Heritage Way: Steep drops ahead

It's been a long time since I fitted that much up and down into an eight-mile walk! 740m of steep climbs and steps. My legs were not very happy with me the next day. Between Matlock and Cromford, the Derwent River runs through a deep valley, with Matlock Bath - a landlocked town which pretends to be a seaside resort - down at the bottom. The ridge of high ground used to run all the way round to Scarthin Rock, cutting off Cromford from the rest of the valley, until somebody blasted a hole through it to build the A6. Matlock Bath: pavilion and amusement park I started in Cromford and climbed over the ridge at Harp Edge, then followed a path along through the woods, with the ground dropping sharply away to my right. There were a few small caves among the trees. At Upperwood someone had thoughtfully provided a bench. I wasn't in need of a rest just yet, though. In fact, I was feeling so bouncy that I went down an entirely unnecessary flight of steps, instead of staying on the reaso...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Churnet Way: a wonderful walk

The loop from Oakamoor to Froghall and back was one of the most enjoyable walks I've done in a long time. It had a bit of everything: woods, ponds, rivers and railways; steep climbs and sweeping views; an unusual church, an ex-industrial wharf, and, as a final bonus, car parks with toilets. Of course, the sunny weather helped too. I parked in Oakamoor and set off along a quiet lane called Stoney Dale. This is the route of the Churnet Way, which deviates away from the river for a couple of miles. After a while I turned right and climbed up through the woods on a gravelly path, then dropped down to the B5417. a spring in Oakamoor   Crossing the road, I entered Hawksmoor Nature Reserve. It has some fine gateposts commemorating John Richard Beech Masefield, "a great naturalist". I found a photo of the opening of the gateway in 1933; unsurprisingly, the trees have grown a lot since then! A track took me down through the woods to East Wall Farm. Lovely view! Nice duck pond as ...
Post a Comment
Read more