NOCTURNAL NOISES

I am generally a very good sleeper and rarely get disturbed however, there are two or three times a year when I sleep with one ear cocked up as it were. At those times this old cottage becomes alive with odd nocturnal noises and perfumes which assail the nostrils.

The front door is frequently rapped as if a visitor has arrived and would like to be to be admitted. These sounds I ignore, for who at four in the morning makes a visit without calling out to the occupier ?

The perfumes vary from that of subtle flower blossoms to those of
exotic concoctions best found in dance halls and not the sort that the country women wear or at least not daily.

Last night, or to be specific early this morning, I was roused from sleep by the sound of tip, tip tapping, as if many feet were dancing on a board and the shrill sounds of merriment. 

I arose quietly and quickly from my bed and crept rapidly along the hall and down, down the ladder to the front room to spy on the merry-makers. Unfortunately I made the mistake of switching on the light and immediately all noise stopped.

The Suspects

Note:
Dancing Boards were very common in the Irish towns-lands many years ago and were low stage like structures made of wood and situated on wide roadside verges often near crossroads for people to dance on.

An Almost Floating House.

We sat in the car after our rambles on the shore at Tracht, - see my previous post :https://aheronsview.blogspot.ie/2017/09/tracht-beach-flowers.html discussing all that our eyes had feasted on and the conversations we had been part of with people who were previously unknown to us - and still are because we never exchanged names.

An interlude of silence followed, broken by Mrs H who said she would like a cup of tea. I suggested that perhaps a delicious ice cream from Messrs. Linalla at Finavarra would soothe her, as it was only a few minutes drive away. 

Map of Finavarra

The area around Fhíonaigh Bheara, Finavarra is rather special to me for several reasons.

There is a Martello tower on the point jutting out into Galway Bay, a place that I frequently visited in the past when wanting time alone with the elements and the curlew. 

https://aheronsview.blogspot.ie/2011/09/where-curlews-sing.html

A view of the countryside from outside of Messrs. Linalla's.

Quite close to the village is the ancient site of The O’Dálaighs School of Lyricists and Poets in Finavarra. It is commonly known as a Bardic School however, as the Bards were seen as low class poets who were largely uneducated and whose functions were story telling and satire, I think ‘lyricists’ is a better description of the Schools’ function. 
The higher classes of Poets were the Fillidh who were trained in rhythm of both words, music and mastery of the lyre, later the harp. The Fillidh functioned as Poets, Historians and Panegyrists. The head of the school would have been an Ollamh, the highest grade of the Fillidh (master poet)  attached to the court of each of the provincial kings and sub-kings. There were periods when an Ard Ollamh (High Ollave) was appointed to exercise authority over the provincial Fillidh.

another view from the same place

Another similar establishment was Cahermacnaughten, near Ballyvaughan along the coast, where the once great Brehon Law School was held under the auspices of the O’Davorens. 

Originally these laws were handed down by word of mouth, passed from master to student, but from the seventh century onwards they were written down. One of the most important recorded sources of Brehon Law is the manuscript Egerton 88, now in the British library. This was copied in the 16th century from older documents at the law school of Cahermacnaghten.

 inland bay

The other end of the same bay

'The Almost Floating House'

and I always wonder if the occupiers ever fish out of there windows 

from the comfort of an armchair.

This whole maritime landscape is steeped in all that is precious to me, Irish culture, seats of ancient learning, wild nature and deep peace.

TRACHT - BEACH FLOWERS

TRACHT is the name of the strand or beach that I have taken you to before, perhaps this the third time and this might be our last visit, unless of course something spectacular occurs that needs telling.

The weather forecast wasn’t promising very much other than fine rain with a warm temperature - but then they do tend to exaggerate one way or another and are rarely accurate; for generalities is their game these meteorologists.

On our journey blue sky was appearing on our lefthand side enough to keep us living in hopes. Whilst directly ahead there were grey clouds  some looked ominous and yet they seemed to me not low enough to

weep on us.

All along the route we saw lots of county Galway flags flying high in the wind, on almost every house, though not all. I said to Mrs H 

“You know there must be a match on with all of those flags showing and those without are probably blow ins or those who don’t support the GAA”

[I should tell you that ‘blow ins’ is the phrase that is used to describe

people who come from another county or even a different country and that GAA stands for the Gaelic Athletic Association]

Kinavara, another favourite place was busy and the harbour car park was full, so we carried on to Tracht without stopping. I did though notice that the pubs seemed to be busy rather early, it not yet being much more than midday.

Tracht though was virtually empty with only half a dozen cars parked facing the sea and nobody was in swimming because the red flag was flying - a warning to swimmers and yet it was virtually calm - I heard later that there was a particularly virulent type of jelly fish about, although I can say that I saw no sign of any at all.

Mrs H inspecting some gem or other

One of the many piles of seaweed that came in with the tide,

one excellent thing that was fortunately missing from the

beach was plastic debris !

This gentle bouquet  caught my eye.

A miniature harbour amongst the rocks.

A line of flowers nicely litters fore shore.

Two other flowers stand chatting amongst their many sisters!

Are they Daisies ?

Yachts also catch my eye too and it has been many a year since I head the slap of water against the hull and the very buoyant sensation of being onboard in a wind driven yacht.

I was correct it was a Championship Hurling match

against Cork

https://sportstvlive.co/2017/09/03/cork-vs-galway-live/

PEACE IN THE FOREST

There are places which call to me and attract me by an indefinable quality. Sometimes it is a certain type of light that flows over the landscape or a peaceful secludedness, a stillness in the air. It might occur in a forest, on a river bank, on a mound in a field or in my chair at home.

 Copper Beech, this one is roughly 150 years of age in Coole Park, Gort, Co Galway

it is known as The Autograph Tree.

Perhaps a junior Stag

I was lucky that he turned to face me

A King Stag, isn't he wonderful ?

A particular ambience arrives when I sit sometimes, it is as though a large unseen pair of wings carries me away into a different state of being and I wander amongst the clouds, seeing a myriad other creatures and beings who inhabit a place where harmony reigns. Thus I return refreshed and knowing…

This me

Coole Park is one of those places, The Beara Peninsula and The Burren are two others although they do not complete my list of special areas.

Perhaps you also have special places that call out to you ?

http://wordsofaramblingmind.blogspot.ie/search?q=COOLE+PARK+2010

http://www.coolepark.ie

http://www.heritageireland.ie/en/west/coolepark/

SLUGS FOR SUPPER

Our supper this evening contained, in amongst the crispy green salad leaves, that not so rare a specimen known as  Arion distinctus Eire or the Irish green slug and yet when treated with the culinary skills that

the dearly loved Mrs H possesses, are also known as Dolmades. 

There were as you can see five of them on my plate, wrapped in giant Irish shamrock leaves, which were grown in our own garden. They were then cooked and pickled gently in white Guinness for seventy two hours, drained and finally stored in a cool place for four weeks ‘till matured.

The Arion distinctus Eire were utterly delicious, very filling as you can no doubt imagine and put the rest of the meal’s ingredients as nice as they were, in the shade.
Mrs H’s skills as a dedicated nocturnal Slug hunter are renowned for miles around. Neighbours have been known to drive to our boundaries with their night glasses and notebooks following her at a safe distance as she makes her selection from a large herd of well fed slithering Irish slugs.

A Slug Supper

And so I wish you bon appétit!

For further information and recipes -
http://www.eattheweeds.com/are-slugs-edible-what-about-snails-2/

The Hill of Truth !

Our intention this time was to visit several places that Mrs. H has had her beady eye on for the past few weeks so at the weekend we set off on a round trip of two hundred and thirty-three miles. The weather was perfect, the coffee in the flask was strong and the road was ours.

Apart from visiting the places that were on our schedule, my navigation brought us to a small home that I had long heard about but had never seen. Finding it was a surprise and a treat for sore eyes.

Eamon De Valera’s home-place at Bruree in Co. Limerick. 

http://www.ireland-information.com/articles/eamondevalera.htm

&

http://homepage.eircom.net/~seanjmurphy/irhismys/devalera.html

The Galtee Mountains

photo taken from Lattin in Co. Tipperary

The highest peak in the Galtee range is Galtymore which rises to 917 m (3,009 ft). Although not the highest mountain in Ireland it is very impressive and can be seen as a great backdrop on the skyline. Some of the best views can be found when approaching Cashel, Co.Tipperary from the north and onwards towards Tipperary Town. 

The Galtees are classified as having a High Fall risk for ramblers, with steep and dangerous areas as well as being very wet underfoot so great care must be taken when walking there.  

http://outsider.ie/Features/May/A-taste-of-more-in-the-Galtees 

My favourite view of The Galtees

By mentioning The Galtee Mountains and Eamon De Valera it has brought to mind a song about a comrade-in-arms of his which I share with you here:

The song of the Galtee Mountain Boy

We continued along our route, travelling further south until we finally saw the outline of Cnoc Fírinne, Co. Limerick. Known as the Hill of Truth or of truthful prediction, because it serves as a weather glass to the people of the surrounding plains who can predict whether the day will be wet or dry by the appearance of the summit in the morning. It is here by tradition that the Irish God, Donn, has another home. 

The Hill of Truth

Cnoc Fírinne

I find it humorous that the male gods are more than likely to be found in the high places and associated with weather, death and truth, whilst their female counterparts are generally found lower in the landscape, in caves, valleys and rivers. 

On the drive home we both felt a bit weary and yet satiated from all that we had seen, the happy memories of which will remain with us. Thank you for visiting this blog and I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed sharing it.

TRANQUILITY RULES OK

DAWN SUNRISE

County Laois in April

A brackish lake in county Clare

Healing

Coastal Waters of Clare

The Offering

The Shannon in May