Ruins

There is a particular atmosphere that pervades the ruins of cottages throughout rural Ireland. I think it has to do with their former humbleness, sometimes their isolation,the fact that it our own (and not so distant) history and also knowing that the famine emptied them and left them bleak reminders of our impoverished past.

I am drawn to them: to recreate the rooms in my mind, furnish them, family and belongings, visualise what it was to read by the light coming through that window, sit at the hearth, drop the head to avoid the lintel coming through the front door.

When the ridges can still be seen in the vegetable plot or a line of fuschia still survives outside the door delineating what was the extent of their patch, it is doubly poignant. The most moving place in Ireland is, I think, the deserted village on Achill. A huddle of about 100 ruined cottages. You get a strong sense of what it was to be in a community living so closely together. While standing there, and drawing on what you know from books like Peig or maybe the film “Man of Aran”, you people the streets quite easily; the place does it for you.

The mental images can be extremely vivid, the feeling very strong: a haunting sadness, and somehow a memory. And because you know it you do not want to leave soon.
Ireland is littered with these ruins. Like holy wells, they transport you to another place, a more thoughtful place. It is good that they survive.

Flickr has a number of photographs of the deserted village at Slievemore on Achill Island and numerous others of ruins througout Ireland.

from Sunfire

The hunch-doubled thorns,
ingrown pantries
dung-puddled;
the moss-stone walls
tumble-gapped.

The nettle-cracked doorway,
lintel-fallen
byre-footed;
the cloud curtained windows
elder-berried.

The stone-sheltered air
bumbled still,
ruin-reverent;
the submerged garden ridges
dumb-founded.

At Naomh Einne's Well

One of the strangest looking holy wells in Ireland is very close to Father Ted’s house in the Burren. The frames of old electrical appliances are nailed onto trees serving \as frames for religious pictures. At least that’s the way it was a number of year’s ago when I visited.
Naomh Einne’s well is on Inis Oirr. It was probably a youngster supplementing his pocket money. The matchstick ladder was a quirky little addition. I wonder if the clear circles left behind fazed him. This poem was included in “Turn Your Head” (Dedalus Press)

At Naomh Einne’s Well

Kneeling down, the jacket off,
shirt sleeves rolled to the oxter,
he slipped his arm into the water,
scooped out the price of a pint,
then thought the better of it
and decided he’d have two.

Then again the following Tuesday
and the following Tuesday too
till there were only clear circles
and coppers on the green bottom,
a bowl in a gap in the wall,
a cross in another with a ladder
of matchsticks and thread.

GEANTRAI TRATHNONA BEAG

Chuir Nuala N Gallachóir as na Doire Beaga an gaeilge ar an dán seo agus 's é mo thuairim go bhfuil sé i bhfad nios fearr sa gaeilge.Tá brón orm go bhfuil na fadai as lathair sa piosa seo.

GEANTRAI
TRATHNONA BEAG

Solas min nona
Ag cimilt an uisce;
Mise agus tusa
Ag imeacht thar bhraid
Faoi scathlan na gcrann
Ar phreamhaigh cois abhann,
Eala,
Go h-uaisneach
Ag cosaint a criche:
Eiti mall triallach na gcorrghlas
Ar leathadh na speir;
Noin bheag agus deire lae -
Cach anachta faoi choim na h-oiche.

Sky, Bog, Mountain

I think Irish skies are stunning. The combination of bogland, mountain, lake and sky in our part of Donegal is frequently breathtaking. These were taken just north of Barnesmore Gap, Kay took the third near Lough Mourne.

Hidden Irish Treasures

Fore, Co Westmeath came to the fore,(couldn’t resist), on radio last week. The conversation widened out to unknown treasures (destinations worth visiting) around Ireland.

Certainly Fore is beautiful and, like Dysert O’Dea, unexploited. To my mind Clonmacnoise has lost its charm, thanks to the powers plonking a visitor centre on top of it. Same at Mellifont Abbey. How nice it was to be able to walk casually and unaccosted into these wonderful places without having to pay. It gave me a sense of pride my country's heritage. Now I feel cordoned off from it, and the admission charges are an imposition on what was, to me, part of the landscape's grandeur like Ben Bulben's escarpment.

No, I’m not against visitor centres, let’s have more of them, but not barring the way into what used to be ours.

So here are a few alternatives which to the best of my knowledge don't charge at the door: Kilmacduagh Abbey near Gort, Monasterboice in Louth, Inis Murray in Sligo, Holy Island on Lough Derg, Jerpoint Abbey in Co Kilkenny, Ballintubber Abbey in Mayo, Abbeyknockmoy in Galway and Duiske Abbey in Graiguenamanagh.

Finally, as a Roscommoner, I can also recommend a visit to Roscommon's 12th century abbey and castle and to the museum in the Square as a very nice way to fill in a day.