Swans
From my high up perch on a rock I counted at least 43 swans upon the water, gathered on the darkening blue grey waters, impervious to the small but fierce choppy waves and unremitting windy gusts. In smaller groupings they amassed a flock.
Rocks
I clambered over the rocks that lifted up, Houses of the Holy (Led Zeppelin album cover - Giant’s Causeway) from the sandy beach to the east of the house, careful to avoid as much of the tufts of lichen as possible, they’re only lightly anchored and a careless footstep can dislodge them entirely. Whether they then have the capacity to take hold somewhere else I don’t know, doubtful I think. The wind is so beautifully sustained, strong but not enough to knock one over or to make the going too hard. My body has many memories of there strong and stonier winds, particularly from Kerry where gales were common place. Here it is just joyous.
The algae greens fur the rounded rocks on the edges contrasting with delicate fleshy pinks of the rocks. What stones are these?
Many of them cris crossed as if by a calligraphy brush making syllables and lithic alphabets.
I think of Lynn Margylis, and of Betsy Dexter Dryers A Field Guide to Bacteria - which I wish I had brought with me. Note to self, bring it on all trips.
Rock pools scudded revealing the patterns of the movements of air.
I find a place to sit, high up but within some trees and bushes in a mixture of both deciduous and conifer.
There some old lichen, flat to the stones surface finds it’s lithic sensibility. Which is stone and which is lichen as both communicate and merge in sympathetic mineralises.
Navy
As I wound back from the harbour area and my visit to the vista of the 43 swans, I saw in the mid distance at the base of the Snake Pit House and the watch tower with it’s vaguely camouflage paint job (how a watch tower might fade into the sky with dark camo is beyond me - but I appreciate the aesthetic deliberation) I could see a sort of featureless van, a proto-van even in dark mat hues, was it black? Dark blue? Deep green? It suggested covert, uniform, discretion, anonymity and selective seclusion. By it side I could see a tall figure in black, appearing even in distance silhouette undeniably military - however I still toyed with the idea that it was a hiker or other erstwhile visitor, tourists, work person. But sure enough as I approached I could see the beautiful cut of a military hat, with it’s gold edging. Moi, the figure in dark low key military garb said.
I know the tower was still in active use by the military, but had not expected to encounter any personal, I don’t know what I expected amidst the extensive historical rusted artefacts and installations upon the small fortress island.
Turning into the road that would lead me to the red trail along the easterly edges of the northern half of Örö I could see more military proto-vans. I call them proto vans because they look like they have been taken from the assembly line before they have fully differentiated into the branded characteristics that identify commercial, civilian vehicles. These are strangely rounded, buds intsed of the sharp chrome or otherwise design features that curry attraction and the wanty need of design particulars.
One is coming down the track towards me and stops.
A jaunty cheery person in uniform. We chat.
He seems very friendly and chatty, happy to answer my questions.
I asked him if they were part of the large
They’re navy. 18 of them will be stationed on Örö for the next 5 days for manoeuvres. There will be war sips about 10 km out to sea but I might see them if the weather is good. I think his gesture was towards the south or southeast of the island.
I told him that I might walk about at night time and tht they should be be scared. He laughed. Enjoy your holiday he said.
I continued past the buildings on my left where 3 more vans were parked, doors swung open revealing tidy stacks of flight cases. Some more military types were clustered on a porch, ’terve’ one of them waved as I turned to smile a greeting.
I continued my walk though the pasture lands of the long haired cattle who found me incredibly interesting, they didn’t move but simply stared watchful as I made my way though their pasture lands.