last light at Barns Ness

Barns Ness, 30 August

I have three posts to share from Barns Ness, and I’m conscious that each of these posts will say quite similar things: the light, the views, the textures, my lighthouse obsession. On one hand I wonder, how do I write about these familiar places and find something different to say? (Although as you read on you’ll find that this post has a few surprises - for me too!) But then each walk feels slightly different. This one offered subtle evening light as the warm glow of the sunset shifted to the pale lavender and moody blues of impending nightfall. It was the last Friday in August and we’ve long held this habit of heading for a great Friday evening walk - while there’s enough light to do so.

Of course, we walk most evenings when there’s light, but there’s always something special about that Friday night trip down the coast, as if shaking off the weekday desk time and all the frustrations and busy head space that brings. We start this in the early days of spring, as the afternoons lengthen and then, eventually, evening light returns. Those first Friday evening walks are particularly special; a sign of the end of winter nights spent indoors (something I struggle with) and a promise of the longer adventures stretching ahead.

And we continue all through summer and into autumn. Some Fridays we get to 6 o’clock and the sofa beckons, but it’s always the right idea to get in the car and go, whether to John Muir or Belhaven or Yellowcraig or perhaps to Gullane Point. And now, this walk from Whitesands to Barns Ness and on towards Torness is added to that list.

From our first walk here, I was fascinated by this short stretch of rocky coastline as the landscape feels different to the shorelines weren’t used to in East Lothian. And this section above left us with the question: what are these rock formations? I’ve never seen this before. When I shared these photos on Instagram, local photographer Martin Covey (I’d highly recommend a visit to his print store - his atmospheric coastal photography is simply stunning) commented to say how he loved these ancient mangrove craters, and I read his message and thought, what? Mangrove craters? A Google search led me to this digital leaflet by the Edinburgh Geological Society that details the geological history and features at Barns Ness, which has the most extensive limestone outcrops in central Scotland and is designated as a Local Geodiversity Site. I’d like to quote one section that explains this limestone formation above:

‘This extensive area of basin shaped hollows, each about one metre across, is the most impressive geological feature of this trail. Look closely in the hollows and you’ll find some are partly filled by a grey rock called ‘seatearth’. This is a fossil wetland soil, full of preserved roots. The hollows are an original feature of the limestone, perhaps formed when the sea receded to expose the top of the limestone allowing a forest to grow on the newly exposed land. Perhaps each pothole is the location of the roots of an individual tree.’

And to answer your next question: trees? Again, let me quote the same leaflet: ‘The rocks are over 320 million years old (the Carboniferous Period) and were laid down as soft sediment when Scotland was located just south of the equator, and the climate was tropical, both hot and wet. Sea level kept rising and falling, so that at times this area was under shallow sea water, and at other times it was a flat coastal plain… Eventually this new land was colonised by lycopod forests (similar to mangrove swamps in the world today). Later, the land would subside once more or global sea-level would rise, drowning the forest and starting a new sediment cycle.’

Back on this Friday evening in August, we were standing here, having no idea what we were looking at, imagining that these hollows must have been manmade, somehow, even though they appear organic. The thought that these could have been created by tree roots… Yes, mind blown. Meanwhile, just above this shoreline there are ruins of a stone building with three large archways, and we’ve also wondered about the origins and purpose of this structure when passing. Again, as the leaflet details, this was originally a lime kiln where layers of coal and limestone were burnt to create quicklime used in agriculture.

While I’ve been fascinated by the textures offered by this walk, I hadn’t appreciated the incredible diversity of the geology here. Needless to say perhaps, I want to explore this further and photograph the different rock formations in detail. This also reminds me of how little I know about the landscapes within our small corner of Scotland. I’m constantly fascinated by the diversity in the colours and types of rock found on our walks, and how each stretch of shoreline has its own identity, without understanding why this is. It’s a reminder, again, to pause and observe the details.

We walked on in the fading light towards Barns Ness, the sky brushed in hues of lilac, and along the pebbly beach beyond, before turning back, knowing that we were chasing the very last of the light. A Friday evening walk that would have been easy to miss, tempted by a Plant Kitchen pizza and Netflix. And there’s nothing wrong with either, obviously, but we’ll have plenty of those Fridays by the end of October, and we’ll be looking back on these moments and wishing we were here, absorbing these colours and textures while listening to the gentle background lull of the waves at low tide.

Whitesands to Barns Ness, East Lothian, August 30 2024.

#whitesands #barnsness #eastlothian #scotland #coast