Country diary: There’s something shining in the dark of the fogou

‘The fogou culminates in a round, corbelled chamber, dimly lit by a small opening in the turf above.’ Photograph: Sara Hudston

Away from the dazzling sea, inland West Penwith is a landscape of rocks, wind and flowers. In high summer, sheep’s-bit sizzles an intense, electric blue alongside tall bolts of foxglove.

In the ruins of the iron age village of Carn Euny, the ground seethes with granite boulders. Some are built into hut walls; others erupt through the soil, part of a continual, slow movement. Every generation of farmers had to clear their fields of risen stone, occasionally digging out pieces the size of coffins.