Yehliu Geopark is a cape of sandstone on the north coast of Taiwan, in New Taipei, covered in stone mushrooms, hard concretions balanced on necks that the sea is still thinning, and the most photographed rock in the country is the Queen's Head, a block whose crown, chin and neck line up into a profile from one marked spot, where a rope funnels the crowd into single file for a turn. The cape is a layer of sandstone tilted into the sea, and the mushrooms are nodules of harder rock cemented by calcium that the waves and the salt have left standing as the softer stone around them wore down, so that the park sorts them by what the sea has done to the stem, no neck, thick neck, thin neck, broken neck; the Queen's neck gets thinner every year and will break, so the park has already named a successor among the younger rocks, and the candle rocks nearby carry a shallow groove circling their stone flame, cut by the swell turning a harder pebble. Past the rock field the path climbs to the exposed tip of the promontory, where a red line keeps the visitors back from the swell that has taken people off the rocks.
A bronze figure with a coil of rope stands near the reef, Lin Tien-chen, a Yehliu man who went into the sea here in March 1964 to save a student and did not come back. From March to May the wooded neck of the cape fills with birds that have just crossed the open sea, Siberian rubythroats, Arctic warblers and paradise flycatchers dropping exhausted into the scrub, the best migrant trap on the main island with more than 300 species logged, and almost nobody in the rock-field crowd notices them. The park is an hour from Taipei on the coast road, with the fishing harbour and the seafood restaurants of Yehliu village at the gate. Yehliu is a cape the sea is carving into figures, and the queen is losing her neck.