This place

Always puts me in mind of Hugh MacDiarmid's poem ' Scotland Small?'

'Scotland small? Our multiform, our infinite Scotland small?
Only as a patch of hillside may be a cliché corner 
To a fool who cries 'Nothing but Heather!'

Here, amongst the Heather are cinquefoils, tormentil, bedstraw, thrift, sea champions, orchids, eyebright, milk worts ' blue as summer skies', clovers, bog cottons, marsh pennyworts, spring squils  and more.

The flowers survive but the lines of gannets, the necklace of eiders and the cormorants which used to haunt the shore are much diminished.