And before humans, older, more profound forces were at work. This ancient land might seem timeless but change lies at its very heart. Ireland has rarely stood still. Ireland’s hills and mountains are formed from her oldest, hardest rocks. They’re part of the legacy of her geological past, the foundation on which this island is built.

 

But the landscapes we see today have more recent origins. Everywhere Ireland has been sculpted in some way by one of the greatest forces of nature, ice. For almost two million years, Ireland, like the rest of Europe was locked in the grip of the ice age. Glaciers, vast moving sheets of ice destroyed nearly all life and transformed the contours of the land. No part of Ireland completely escaped their impact. In the mountains of Mourne in Northern Ireland, the glaciers never quite reach the summits, but the cold they carried with them did. Frost actions split and shattered the rock faces, chiseling steep ravines and deeply carved peaks.

 

One bird of the mountains has made the most of this ice age legacy-- the Peregrine Falcon comes to the Mournes to nest. Remote rock faces and inaccessible ledges  are the safest place to raise their chicks. And the land around provides good hunting for the adults-- all good reasons why there’re more Peregrines here than anywhere else in Ireland. But even Peregrines couldn’t have lived here until the ice age ended, around 13,000 years ago. Exactly when they staked their claim to Ireland Uplands isn’t clear. But since then their fortunes, like everything else, here have changed with the times. Today they’re wide spread throughout the country. But less than 40 years ago, Peregrines hit an all-time low. Poisoned by insecticides designed to protect seeds and crops, their numbers died to just 27 successful nesting pairs, bringing them paralyzedly close to extinction. Only when the chemicals were banned did the Peregrines recovery begin. It’s been a slow process, but they are now thriving and reclaiming the mountain landscape they inherited from the ice.

 

Ireland’s mountains lie scattered around her edge, encircling a watery landscape of rivers, streams, lakes, fens, and barks. On her west coast in County Mayo stands Ireland’s most sacred mountain, Croagh Patrick. On this summit, Ireland’s patron saint is believed to have fasted for 40 days and nights. And today more than 1500 years later, the mountain remains a place of pilgrimage. Every year on Reek Sunday, the last Sunday in July, more than 25,000 people follow in St. Patrick’s footsteps. As the pilgrims make their steep descent, the view before them is another with its feet in the ice age, Clew Bay.

 

Well-backed islands are a testimony to the power of glaciers. Stones and soil were trapped beneath their massive weight and molded into mini-hills called Drummans. Then when the ice retreated and sea levels rose, these glacial relics were partly submerged, creating a drowned landscape.

 

In this water world, even the sheep are shepherded by boat, in traditional currachs powered by modern outboard motors. The popular belief is that there are 365 islands in Clew Bay, one for each day of the year. They are sheltered from the more extreme conditions of the North Atlantic and their rocky shorelines are a sanctuary for common seals.

 

Clew Bay is one of those corners of Ireland that feels frozen in time. Whole communities once carved a living from these islands, animals grazed, and homesteads grew up around small sheltered bays. But famine drove many away and changing time has made this kind of life uneconomic today. Only seven of the islands are still inhabited.

 

There are ghosts of past lives all along this stretch of coast. Rockfleet Castle was one of many belonging to Grace O’Malley, Queen of the Clew Bay pirates, who ruled these waters in the 16th century. The network of tiny isles and bays provided ideal hideaways for the pirate galleys, the plundered passing ships. It’s hard to imagine such a turbulent past. All that's likely to disturb these waters today are otters hunting for food.