Thursday, June 19, 2014

Scotland Rocks!

My first glimpse of Scotland was from several thousand feet up, out the window of a Boing 757. After seventeen hours of traveling, I was in a fugue state, barely registering what was happening around me, and was staring more or less blindly out the window at a hypnotic cloudscape that extended out to the horizon. Then, suddenly, a dark and jagged shape rolled out from below the wing and into my field of view. My mind automatically jumped into assessment mode: “Mountains. Sharp ridges and U-shaped valleys. Formed by glaciers.”
This is an image of the first mountains I saw as I flew over Scotland. The ridges of the mountains are very sharp, while the valleys are clearly U-shaped. The terrain is completely covered by greenery.
My first view of Scotland, a mountain peak protruding above the low clouds. The sharp peaks are indicative of glacial activity, as is the U-shaped valley just visible through the clouds. Photo by author
And then my brain actually kicked in. This wasn't just a mountain. This was a mountain in Scotland, my first real view of the land I would be living in for six weeks. This mountain was not particularly impressive in a purely physical sense—it was short, mostly buried in clouds, and covered in trees—but from a personal standpoint, I was instantly enamored by what I could see. This wasn't just some mountain, of interest only to geologists and climbers. This was an historical artifact in its own right. People were traipsing over that mountain literally thousands of years before I was born. I was awed, inspired, and more than a little intimidated by the enormity of that fact.

In Edinburgh, I continued to think about the geology I observed in a more historical context. The Edinburgh Castle, for instance, is situated atop an intimidating basalt stock that looms above the rest of the city. The jagged, lichen-covered faces of this outcrop are shear black cliffs more than a hundred feet high, a virtually unassailable position to any pre-industrial army. This incredibly defensible position played a significant role in the capitol moving from Perth to Edinburgh, as it offered increased security. So, while some might pass through Edinburgh and only see a castle on a rock, I now see an unassailable fortress with a foundation of basalt formed by an igneous intrusion millions of years ago. Geology and history have become one in Edinburgh. 
Part of the basalt outcrop is visible in this picture, along with the top of the castle. Although this is not the entire outcrop, the distinguishing jagged and black features are prominent.
The top of Edinburgh Castle, situated atop an outcrop of basalt, which in turn is a part of the larger butte that looms over the city. Photo by author
Edinburgh is spread out below the castle in this image. Every other building in sight appears diminutive when seen from this hight.
The view from Edinburgh Castle is truly impressive. It is easy to imagine a king taking a morning stroll on the castle grounds to survey his domain. Photo by author
Quite possibly one of the most significant rocks in history, the Stone of Scone resides in the Edinburgh Castle, alongside the Scottish crown jewels. From a purely scientific standpoint, it is not an impressive specimen. It is a block of coarse-grained quartz sandstone about two feet on a side, with an iron loop hammered into the ends for ease of transport. Aside from some interesting but ordinary cross-bedding, there is nothing, geologically speaking, that sets it apart from any other lump of sandstone from the area. But this is the Stone of Destiny. Monarchs have been coronated over this simple rock for centuries. The magnitude of cultural significance tied to the Stone of Scone far outweighs its physical weight of 336 pounds.

I left home thinking about the geology I might see as just that: geology. Now, just six days into this adventure, I realize that there is much more to just the physical nature of a mountain, an igneous stock, a block of sandstone. These are historical objects, cultural symbols that extend into the distant past, making it less distant by their permanence.

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