GRIANAN fort – the ‘palace of the sun’ - rests on the hilltop gateway that guards the entrance to Donegal, above the townland of Burt, off the main road from Derry to Letterkenny.
Late on Sunday morning, I went there for a long hour. Heavy low cloud married cold creeping fog, drenching the fort with near-invisibility.
The arrowed edges of the damp entry stones spooned out fat teardrops of autumnal rainwater. The Celtic cross marking the nearby holy well was barely discernible in shrouded shadow.
For strategic and spiritual reasons, it’s easy to see why the fort – linked with the pre-Celtic Tuatha dé Danann - became established there around 4,000 years ago.
Its panoramic views are unparalleled in clear weather; its vista sweeping right around the north-west of Ireland – from Muckish and Errigal, across Inch island and Lough Swilly, into Inishowen and round to Derry city, with Lough Foyle and north Derry horizoned far beyond.
Its solstice sunrises and gold bar sunsets take the breath away. Its ‘hollow lands and hilly lands’ hide treasures of immense beauty.
On great days, you’ll find a rolling congregation of young families, older people, couples and tourists.
But on days that are cold and grey and hostile, like Sunday morning, you’re unlikely to find anywhere else of greater solitude or selfish sanctuary. It’s a special place to be alone.
Wandering in laps around the lumpy stone-work of the upper circle, I reached back into the scores of visits I’d previously made to Grianán, with my daughters as they grew up, with other close family and incredible friends, and most often just on my own.
Many thousands of others have done likewise, drawn to a circular fort that’s forged circular friendships over millennia.
Collar up, head down, chill chafing, my stony gaze drifted into the depths of thought and memory. In any event, it wasn’t possible to see much beyond 50 yards.
The brown gorse and fading heather that beards the fort’s exterior was tapering off into formless mist.
At some point, as I kept circling with my thoughts, I felt a growing sense of disorientation. I stopped, lifted my head and I couldn’t tell which section of the fort I was now standing upon. It was odd.
I automatically looked outward. But the absence of all the familiar landmarks - Errigal, Inishowen, Derry – took away the context of the fort’s position. I had no bearings.
The fallen fog had stolen my reference points. They were all still out there beyond; I just couldn’t see them. And the lifelong familiarity of Grianán’s circle immediately felt like a strange place.
So instead of searching outside for certainty, I turned inward and hawkedaround for the small open passageway that provides the privileged point of eastern entry to the heart of the fort. It was reassuring to spot after a few seconds.
It’s a special portal through which old souls and young spirits – my family and friends – have all passed with me, to make past memories of Grianán. It helped me to reorientate and made me think about life.
We all know that the constantly revolving, circular circuit of our daily lives imposes endless demands and pressures. But often, when we finally stop to look up, we can quickly feel lost and disorientated – somehow stuck on unfamiliar ground, uncertain.
Solid landmarks of experience seem obscured. Places of certainty seem nowhere. The geography of our lives can easily feel bogged in fog. Even though everything remains exactly where it was, our flawed perspective can challenge our inner confidence.
It happens largely because our society is now increasingly distracted and dominated by infernal, external material matters.
And we’re all too often swept along, measuring our lives by others’ rules and priorities, running the wrong races, and looking outwards for certainty and sign-posts, only for our insecurities to be constantly battered by others’ insensitivities.
The truth is we’re looking in the wrong direction. We need to take more time to stop and look inwards on ourselves, with care, generosity and kindness.
Only then can we start pinpointing the open passageways to future growth and renewing the stable certainties that anchor our lives.
And we need to trust true friendships and experiences, and opportunities and love, to freely flow more deeply into the inner circle of our own private existence.
Only then can we begin to penetrate the frequent fogs of modern society, and grasp the magic and meaning of a timeless sun palace as splendid and steadfast as Grianán.
