Scotland - Siccar Point: 'No vestige of a beginning, no prospect of an end'

 June 27, 2024

Geologists, at least the good ones, are at heart, storytellers.

This post is a long story as told by one geologist.

Suneson - Geologist, blogger, storyteller at Siccar Point, Scotland.
The first page of the earth's story, at least as we geologist tell it, begins here at Siccar Point.

James Hutton hailing from Edinburgh, Scotland (1726-1797) was an expansive thinker and carries the epithet, 'Father of Modern Geology.' Like so many geologist to follow, James Hutton loved his whisky and loved the ladies. Having impregnated his girlfriend while in medical school at the University of Edinburgh, she was sent off in disgrace to relations in London and he, for the sake of the family name, was banished by his landed family to run the family farms in rural Britain.

Once upon a time, There was a young man, James Hutton by name, a thinker and believer in systems and observer of changes, even small changes. James Hutton, for his indiscretions and failed sense of propriety was banished from his studies and sent to work his family's land. Out there on the farm, every spring he needed to muck out the sediment that clogged the drainage ditches that carried the water off his farm fields. Every spring. 

James thought, how is it that I still have soil to plant my crops if my fields are continuously swept by the interminable Scottish rains and my soil carried to the sea year after year?

Hutton came to believe there must be an engine, a system of renewal, put in place by the Lord God Almighty, otherwise God's people would starve, not having  a field, nor even a garden to plant and till as commanded in the Book of Genesis. A just God would not let his creation starve, so He must have a system to renew the good earth, a system of re-creation. Hutton discussed his ideas with some of his friends of the Scottish Enlightenment and they consider it and suggested he present his ideas to The Royal Society of Edinburgh. 

So, he present his ideas to the Royal Society of Edinburgh in 1785. Hutton suggested that the earth was incredibly old, so much older than anybody has ever imagined and that the earth, land and sea were constantly and systemically changing and regenerating over time. But the changes took place in small increments over an incomprehensible amount of time - Geologic Time. Hutton proposed that 'The present is the key to the past,' meaning that the small forces of erosion by water and waves which we observe today washing new sediment to the sea where it was deposited are the same process that have always happened in the past. And over time, very, very long time, these deposited sediments were moved by great earth forces, lifted and returned as dry land. This was the process championed as Uniformitarianism. A process that took unimaginable eons, but cycled through and recreated the earth.

Hutton was ridiculed, scoffed at and shouted down as an atheist. Few believed that slow and gradual processes could and did create the world we see today. No! Most believed in Catastrophism, the process of exclusive sudden and violent change, such as an earth-drowning floods over a mere 40 days and 40 nights, accounted for everything that was visible in this world. To say otherwise was to challenge the hand and work of God The Creator. Of course his critics had small minds, in respect to both the workings of God and the geologic process that form the earth.

Hutton and his ideas, that, as he claimed; 'The present is the key to the past,' were challenged as having no scientific basis. Most of the western world and even his audience at the Royal Society held to the idea that the world was created in 4004 BC. This date of the earth's creation having been calculated by Archbishop Ussher of Ireland (1581-1656) using the biblical genealogy of Adam to Jesus. In fact Archbishop Ussher asserted that the earth was created on Sunday, October 23, 4004 BC. Gospel [for those who have a small god, closed eyes and a tight mind].

Hutton needed proof of expansive, geologically scaled time. James Hutton and some of his likeminded friends sailed up the Scottish coast from Eyemouth [I love that name] toward Edinburgh looking for their needed observational proof along the shore. They needed reasoned evidence that Hutton's theory of incremental changes over vast amounts of time added up to the creation as we observe it today. That evidence came into view for Hutton and his companions at Siccar Point. 

As they land their boat and stepped ashore, before their eyes was an amazing outcrop described as: vertical beds of folded, gray turbiditic micaceous schists and mudstones of the Early Silurian, clearly overlain by near-horizontal beds of a completely different rock type, brecciated red sandstone of the Late Devonian age. The underlying vertical beds were originally deposited (as are all sediments) horizontally. Over eons, the horizontal beds were tilted and folded by enormous, slow-acting forces to their current upended vertical position. Millions of years later, a different lithology was deposited horizontally on top of the older, now tilted and eroded exposed  beds. It was obvious to Hutton and his companions that they were seeing the results of deep, geologic time between these two distinct formations. John Playfair who was in the boat with Hutton that day in 1788 wrote; 

  

“Dr Hutton was highly pleased with appearances that set in so clear a light the different formations, and where all the circumstances were combined that could render the observation satisfactory and precise … We felt necessarily carried back to a time when the schistus on which we stood was yet at the bottom of the sea, and when the sandstone before us was only beginning to be deposited, in the shape of sand or mud, from the waters of the supercontinent ocean… The mind seemed to grow giddy by looking so far back into the abyss of time; and whilst we listened with earnestness and admiration to the philosopher who was now unfolding to us the order and series of these wonderful events, we became sensible how much further reason may sometimes go than imagination may venture to follow.”

Just as the Apostle 'Doubting' Thomas before him would not believe in the unimaginable power of God to raise Jesus from the tomb unless he himself tangibly saw and touched the wounds in Jesus' hands and pierced side; so too did James Hutton now have the tangible evidence of the unimaginable power of small processes repeated over immense geologic time to convince his doubters of the truth and force of Uniformitarianism, thus putting to rest the belief in Catastrophism.

*** 

As an undergraduate, I fell in love with the science of geology. I loved learning to read the language of rocks, to listening to the stories of the earth as told by lithologic details. Each mineral, formation, fault, mountain face and roadcut opened a new story chapter for those who had ears to hear the tales that were being whispered beneath our feet. Ancient secrets were reveal to me and those who had patience to look closely and understand that rivers, deserts, seas and serpents were once here, now vanished, save for traces decoded and interpreted by a practitioner of the geologic sciences.

I owe my career and much of my imagination as it follows the reasoning of James Hutton whose mind first captured the deep abyss of time, geologic time at Siccar Point. 

I married a geologist who explored the mountains of Mexico and mapped out ancient volcanoes and who has now long worked to share the great love and expansive ways of our God. I see no conflict with deep time and a great God who created the earth, its processes and placed in a universe so immense that one can scarcely begin to imagine. I took my geologist wife and my love of the science to Scotland. We had to see and read Page One of the story of deep time there at Siccar Point, the place of Hutton's Unconformity.

This day was a pilgrimage. A pilgrimage to the shrine of reason and to the far-thinking man who saw further into the world than any before him.

Siccar Point - Now, if we could only find this place. 

For all of my eloquence and hearty attribution to the significance of the history and geology and the accompanying thoughts and reasoned understanding - the location of Hutton's unconformity for all the world seemed to be a well-kept secret.

Off a narrow lane onto an even narrower lane, we found a wide spot to park and a promising trek to find Hutton's Unconformity at Siccar Point - if we were not blown over the sea cliffs on our way.

Finally! A sign. We must at last be in the right spot.

I find my way out of Dunbar, knowing that we are geographically close to the end point of our geologic pilgrimage to one of our science's greatest touchstones; Hutton's Unconformity at Siccar Point. I reason, this is such a renown outcrop, albeit, for the small community such as is made up of those who claim geology as their passion, that there must be a marker, if not, surely an identifiable wide spot in the road where pilgrims such as ourselves have come before, marking the way to the Holy Shrine of The Unconformity. 

I hold to my reasoning too long. I reason, surely we'll find a well elucidated signage post placed by the proud Fathers of County Berwickshire in the name of history and tourism coin. Hutton's unconformity is too monumental of a site of international heritage to be hidden as if it mattered not. I reason that Siccar Point must be one point of great Scottish esteem. It must be marked, so I hold to my reasoning. My reason in these lands fails me.

With Dunbar in my rearview mirror, we are southbound on the A1, so far so good. The quick and subtly marked turn off toward the coastal cliffs along the A1107 is found by a sharp eye and good fortune. I feel we are getting close. Now, to find those markers that proudly proclaim the way to the historic Siccar Point. I drive far down the A1107, knowing that we have travelled too far. There are no shoulders on the roads in Scotland, so I look for a place where traffic can see me in either direction, I slow and do a Y-turn in the middle of the road and return northward. What did we miss? Oh where can this Siccar Point be?

I come to a middle age gent working on the shrubbery in front of his house bordering the tiny A1107 lane. I pull to a stop, get out and inquire, "Sorry to bother you, but we happened to be looking for Siccar Point, somewhere near here..."

I get a quizzical stare. 

I blubber on, "Siccar Point, a really famous geologic outcrop, made famous my James Hutton, it might also be known in these parts as Hutton's Unconformity..."

I'm politely interrupted, "Sorry mate. Never heard of it. Sorry, best of luck, I can not help ya." 

I drive on in frustration at myself as one who has a nose for a good outcrop and an innate sense of good direction. Not even Sue's iPhone is of any help. I push on.

I see a small road that cuts off our road toward the North Sea, it has a sign posted; 'Downlaw Farm 2 mi.' I figure this is not the way, but it is a road and it needs to be checked out. About a mile down what amounts to a semi-paved driveway, I see a man operating a tractor cutting the field near this road we're traveling. I stop. I walk to the fence and lean into it, catching the eye of the tractor man. 

He idles his machine and walks toward me. "Sorry to interrupt your day, but we are looking for Siccar Point?"

He smiles at me, trying to understand my accent, "Aye, Siccar Point?" Shaking his head, "Never heard of the place."

I try the phrase "Hutton's Unconformity - it's on the coast..."

He grimaces. "I donnot know of anything like that. But you may as well keep on going," he points down the road in the direction we were driving, "there's a lady down there, been around here fer years, she might be the one to know about such if anyone will."

I graciously thank him and continue toward Downlaw Farm. We come to the end of the road, there is a stone house rimmed by a stone wall. I am not sure where the front of the house is and whether I'll find the 'lady whose been around here fer years' inside this house. I drive past the house and end up between a couple of stone outbuildings and a shed or barn. I park in front of what looks like a sun porch at the back of the house, modern looking and glassed in.

I ask my wife to get out of the car and accompany me to the back porch door, "I'll look less threatening if I've got a nice church lady standing with me," I tell her.  I knock, and quickly a young, late 20ish gal answers my knock.

"Sorry to bother you M'am," using some good ol' Southern Charm wording and accent hoping to elicit some sympathy for a lost, mild-mannered Yankee in County Berwick, "I believe we are in the wrong place, but we are looking for Siccar Point, a historic site somewhere around here that is known as Hutton's Unconformity."

"Tell 'em come in!" says a voice from inside the house. We are ushered in and find a woman in mid-30's watching tennis on the telly with her right leg in cast and elevated on a pillow as she reclines on the couch. 

I begin again, "I believe we are in the wrong place, we are looking..."

The one-legged woman stops me with a gracious and knowing smile, "Yes. Yes you are." I was expecting a much older woman from the description I'd been given up the road. She continues in good humor, "It's a shame, it really is, but nobody around her cares or knows about Hutton. He's really important, but for some reason he doesn't get any credit from the people here. You're from the States? Yah, Siccar Point, it might be internationally famous, but it's pretty much unknown here, I don't know why."

Sue offers her iPhone and shows her what we were working with and why we seem to be lost. "Oh, that is pitiful. That won't do, will it? There, grab my phone, I'll call it up on Google Earth and show you how to get there."

We look as she tells us to go back the way we came, take the second right, don't go to the caravan park, keep going until you see this wide spot in the road," she shows us the route and the parking place on Google Earth. "Don't go all the way to the plant at the end of the road, but put in here," pointing to the satellite image, "you'll have to walk past the ruins of St. Helen's church, a notable site in its own right. The cliffs are steep, are you planning on going down to the rocks?"

I admit that that was the point of traveling to here from Texas. "Oh, you gotta be real careful, those cliffs are steep and slippery."

We thanked her profusely and wish her a speedy recovery. She admits it was her fault, not the horse's. Foolish on her part, she should have known better, but now she has to recover from a bad break and surgery. We again thank her for finding and knowing where Siccar Point is and how we can get there. Feeling flush with luck we let ourselves out and continue our pilgrim's progress.

The ruins of Saint Helen's Church at Siccar Point

I inadvertently drive past the parking spot and end up at the produce packing plant. I turn around and park in the right spot, excited to be here. It is a half mile hike through a cowless pasture, full of waving grass in the stiff breeze coming off the North Sea, though we are crossing the meadow in bright sunshine.

The long-sought signage is on the side of the road. First order of instruction on the way to Hutton's Unconformity is to pass through the kissing-gate. A kissing-gate is so designed as to be able to open the gate to pass through, but in opening the gate, it is then positioned, once one passes through, to be closed against a second gate post. The ingenious kissing-gate is therefore never fully open to livestock, but swings to open for bipedal creatures. My wife likes the concept of the kissing-gate, passes halfway through and then puckers up. We kiss. I am allowed to pass into the pasture and we lean into the breeze and head for the unconformity.

Green pastureland rolls gently to the edge of the braes (sea cliffs) riming the North Sea

Sue catches the wind in her sails after a day of missed turns and hidden trails 
in our Pilgrimage to Siccar Point

My heart leaps at the sight of tilted, outcropping beds at Siccar Point

I keep my steps to a subdued trot, excited to make it to the headlands and so see and walk the angular unconformity that cinched the concept of deep, geologic time at this very place for James Hutton and his party at Siccar Point.

We were expecting another kissing-gate at the far end of the pasture, only to find it has been replaced by a stile. I remember asking and learning what a stile was many years ago when my mom read me the story of 'There once was a crooked man, who walked a crooked mile, and climbed a crooked stile.' No stile points for kissing as you climb a stile. But at least I could now claim to have climbed one of those fairytale stiles.

Once upon the other side of the stile, it was downhill to Hutton's Unconformity!

I took a look over the brae, it was green and appeared rarely walked. it was steep, I'd estimate an 80-degree slope down to the exposed rocks of the famous angular unconformity. I wanted to touch and walk the contact. I so wanted to stand where Hutton, the Father of Geology himself had stood and where John Playfair has written that 'the mind seemed to grow giddy by looking so far back into the abyss of time.' I had come so far to be here. I was a pilgrim at the end of a holy trek. My eyes were lifted up unto rocks from whence came the concept of deep time. A place and an idea as Hutton wrote, 'with no vestige of a beginning, no prospect of an end.' Eternity. An eternity of small changes and makes mighty mountains and then wears them down to a peneplain and carries their sediments out to sea, all as a result of deep time at work.

I asked my wife, knowing she had been nursing a sore knee for much of our Scottish holiday, if she were willing to go down that steep slope, maybe a height of 200 feet with me?

"No. Not in these shoes." No, it wasn't really about the shoes, it was her knee joint that would not make the descent a prudent choice. I respected that and took another look at the slope before me.

At last! James Hutton's Unconformity lay before me in all time natural glory.
A near vertical drop of about 200 feet to the famous rock below.

Angular unconformity at Siccar Point.
Upturned Silurian  Greywackes now near 90 degrees from horizontal,
overlain by Devonian horizontal red sandstones. 

I had to do a hard and serious search of my heart and my 66 year old outcrop-climbing legs. I wanted to be down on the outcrop itself. But I also knew that if I went down, I would have to get back up. Ten of fifteen years ago, I would not have wavered. Now I was unsure. I was confident it could be done. But at what cost?

The sight of Hutton's Unconformity being so close was exhilarating. But, was it enough to satisfy the explorer, the rock-hopping adventurer within? I decided it would have to be enough to be this close. 

Teetering on the edge of the brae at Siccar Point.
Do I go down and then regret having to climb back up?
I teetered on that decision as well.
I stay atop and say, I've have come, I've seen and I have paid my pilgrim's homage.
It is enough.

In the end, I had come a great distance. I was thrilled to be here. My heart was that of a holy pilgrim at rest for having made the journey. I had seen with my own eyes. I had walked in the steps of James Hutton, I had offered up homage to a mind and a concept that has changed my life.

I stood above the outcrop and cast my eyes down and my thoughts up. 

I had come, I had seen. Yet, I had not touched the very unconformable stones themselves.

It was enough.

In the long tradition of geologist returning triumphantly from the field, we will return to Lime Cottage in Gorebridge this evening and find a local pub and have a pint of ale. 

Geologist and Pilgrims
Mark & wife above Hutton's Unconformity at Siccar Point.
It is enough.