Sagas of Salt and Stone
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Along the shore to the Fishermen’s Huts, along the crest of Marwick Head and, in particular, on much of the perimeter of the beautiful tidal island of the Brough of Birsay, a small, blue, lily-like flower grows in great profusion: the spring squill. From our house on the Links, I have seen the southern end of the Brough appear as blue as the sky on a soft summer day, an elusive and transient beauty. Even alongside the shorter track that leads up to the cliff edge from Comloquoy, under the prosaic fences, you may find this tiny, exquisite flower. It grows, too, in places with short grass around the great Ring of Brodgar. My mother who, as a Wren, was stationed in Orkney during the Second World War, remembered taking one of the North Isles ferries in the early summer, passing small islands (“holms” they are called here) and headlands, blue-stained and reflected, shimmering, in the silken sea.
Like the equally tiny endemic, the famous Primula scotica, this plant can cope with only the shortest of grass, whether cropped by rabbits or livestock, or heavily suppressed by the wind. Here are plants that are obviously deeply influenced by the weather but also, perhaps, by man’s agricultural management, especially the grazing of stock. The profusion of blooming primulas can be manipulated by altering grazing patterns, and it has struck me that there has clearly existed, perhaps for a very long time, some sort of relationship between these plants and the activities of Orkney’s farmers. Although it is hard to judge with any accuracy the ebb and flow of agricultural activity through the ages, the contrasting blocks of green may have been interspersed with almost transparent washes of blue, just as there remain today quite large areas of the thick, creamy-white of meadowsweet, heavy with scent.
This, I think, is one of the constant delights of the Orcadian landscape. It is not really a place to seek some hugely rare flower; it is a place instead to enjoy common plants growing in a marvellous profusion, an exuberance that, on a winter visit, is hard to credit. The thrift, in all possible shades of pink, which in some years may follow the squill, is one such plant. Bird’sfoot trefoil is another, as are the exotic-looking yellow flag irises, or the sturdy angelica that marches along the Marwick shore.