The Rivals…

See those three small mountains in the distance, the ones with the giant half-formed lenticular clouds stretching out low above the summits? They’re the Rivals - Yr Eifl. Tell me - is a ‘small mountain’ an oxymoron?

Thousands of years ago they were active volcanoes, created as the molten lava spewed up from the centre of the earth to cool and solidify on the surface. You’re meant to be able to hear fairies on the mountainside as the talk to each other, and if you listen long enough it’s said that you’ll hear the secret of your heart’s desire, your destiny, the name of your secret sworn enemy, and even learn the date of your own death. I don’t know about that; all I’ve ever heard is the crack of the wind, the screams of the gulls, and the incessant bleating of the hill sheep – not once a fairy chatter.

I’m told that the top is one of Britain’s best-preserved Iron Age hill forts - Tre’r Ceiri (Town of the Giants). ‘Told’ because it is a very long, steep, trek to get to it and this - coupled with my fear of fairy gossip - has meant that I’ve never seen it except in photographs. Legend has it that three giants once fought a battle there, none winning, wearing each other down, the trio holding each other off in a stalemate stranglehold. It’s said that they are still grappling with each other and sometimes their struggle causes the earth to shake – and occasionally it really does.

The quiet landscape around Yr Eifl is one of the most earthquake prone areas in the UK. The last major earthquake was in 1984, and from the records there were others in 1827, 1842, 1852, 1874, 1879 and 1903.The 1984 earthquake measured 5.4 on the Richter scale and was the largest onshore UK earthquake event for over 100 years. It originated at a depth of around 22 kilometers under the Earth's crust and the epicentre was traced to the Rivals – it was those giants fighting again for sure.

Sometimes a low cloud will cling to the three peaks like a large brooding argument and it’s easy to imagine the volcanoes still live – smoking, rumbling, the Rivals waiting to erupt in battle once more, sending shockwaves out across the fields of sheep and more sheep.

Why mention all this?

I mention this because these days, most of the time, I hardly notice the Rivals – they’ve almost become a backdrop to whatever it is I’m worrying / complaining / arguing about or doing / not doing / complaining about doing / not doing at the time. I hardly notice them any longer as I drive through them - so caught up in myself as I am. Even though they tower above me, and - though there’s no escaping them anywhere on the peninsula - I rarely see them, always so solid and present, as I grumble / niggle / tut MY way through MY day.
Am I alone in this or do we all to it sometimes / often / most of the time? Tick accordingly – I’m in the MOTT box.

Sometimes things and people can become so ‘used to’ that you almost stop noticing them. You stop seeing their light reflected on surfaces, the sound of their noise, the smell of their presence, they become forgotten, invisible - part of an all-too-familiar landscape that you move around and through without really experiencing… Just too busy with yourself.

Yesterday, for a moment, I saw the mountains in the distance and the reality of their strength and stark beauty made me stop and stare… just look at them – magnificent aren’t they.

I hope it doesn’t take an earthquake, a gigantic wresting match, or truth telling fairies to make me notice them again - and I hope they don’t have to erupt to make me see things for what they really are once more.