
In pools below the fort there is lurid green sea-weed. Rich ochre lichens on rock. We climb the fortress rock, defended by a chevaux de fries of encircling rocks. Reaching the high point, the reek of seabirds strikes us and colonies of shag and herring gull launch frantic at the shock of unexpected visitors on their redoubt. Turbulence and clamour in their wake, inscribed in a calm sea. Down below, a raft of shag and gulls. We find shelter in the rocky cliff-top to observe the birds as they return to their nest sites, and shelter from the burning sun. From the shag colony come their bizarre vocalisations. Fledglings are still at the nest site, bulky and greyish. The ancientness of shag chimes with the solitude and remoteness of this Iron Age fort.