Two recent glaring instances, however, have made me re-evaluate my own
reactions. The first appeared a while ago, high up on a steep hillside above
one of the main roads out of town. The tree cover has been felled, leaving an
open expanse of boulders, dead wood, scrubby growth and churned earth. One of
the stones, a pleasingly rounded mass of grey granite has been given two eyes
and a smile, courtesy of black paint. And it made me smile the first time I
passed, like a sudden revelation of a grinning entity long hidden by forest
growth. This anthropomorphism of rock did not make me think of defacement and
hooliganism at all, but initially as something rather amusing, the sort of
landmark that people driving in and out of the town would enjoy. It is after
all the rocks that give this place its life and identity. And people relate
more easily to the sort of facile humanization shown here than the apparent
in-animation of a mass of stone. I regret this reaction on reflection and
attribute it to the fact that the rock is simple and ordinary, un-moulded by
dramatic erosion.
The second example has made me angry. A famous rock, mid-stream in the
river and hollowed out by natural erosion of granite to resemble a mini-cave or
seating-place, has acquired the incised initials DD, writ large above the
opening. The main tourist path passes here and the rock itself is easily
accessible from the far bank across other stones, so it has become an obvious
spot for photos of children or adults sitting inside the rock or filming of
atmospheric sequences. I once saw a korrigan (local gnome of spirited
character) seated inside the stone as the camera rolled for a Breton themed
short or perhaps a tourist trailer. That is harmless fun and in its way does
honour to the natural qualities of this environment. The ensemble of river and
rock under a canopy of trees pierced by shafts of light is a conjunction of
elementals that speaks powerfully to something inside us and defines the spirit
of this particular place.
The fact that I care more about this than the other reflects the important
of context in our relationship to particular landscapes. The smiley face is in
essence no more acceptable to lovers of natural landscape than the initials,
but it reveals at least benign intention rather than an egotistical assertion.
The latter instance seems so much more intrusive by its deliberate spoiling of
a significant spot for locals and visitors alike, a rock whose whole incredibly
long history is mapped in its unique shape, its situation where the combination
of elements stands together to create a powerfully numinous experience for
those who are open to it.
