It is Sunday and our family are going on a picnic. Preparations begin on Saturday when tarts or buns are baked. My older sisters help my mother make sandwiches with a variety of fillings. Our house is on the Dublin Road in Limerick City and we cross it to reach the by-road that leads to
My late father Michael Butler was the lock-keeper at Upper Tinnahinch Lock, Graiguenamanagh for 52 years. My siblings Kay, Mary, Lar, Jim and I have great memories growing up in the Lock House. My special memory is when my father fished for silver eels at the Lock gate. The eel season began in autumn and
It’s still dark. 4am. The Liffey flows gently by. Our van moves so smoothly it is along the empty road it almost seems silent as we pull into the car park of the Wrens Nest. Lifting the punt from the roof we make our way through the bushes to the water’s edge. The sky brightens
I count myself fortunate to live beside a river. But should I call it a river? It is still, cartographically speaking, anonymous just known locally as “The River”. Along its northbound route innumerable little streamlets have joined and barely two miles from where it made its ‘sudden sally’ from the earth a bridge is needed.
My first experience of Smerwick Harbour was as a pupil in the 1960s, a scoláire learning Irish during summer holidays with the Crescent school in Limerick, at the picturesque Gaeltacht village of Baile na nGall (Ballydavid) on the edge of the Dingle Peninsula in West Kerry. We spoke Irish, swam, played Gaelic football, cycled by
A Dhia, a chruithidh Farraige, sleibhte agus speir, Go mbeadh fuinneamh agus brf na farraige ionam, Ceol na farraige i’m chro1, Neart agus buan na sleibhte i m’intinn Nuair a thagann na stoirm; Go mbeadh s1ora1ocht na speire i’m spiorad, Is radharc fiche/fiche i suile m’anam, Go bh’feicfinn na sforaf i ngach nf A chruithidh
Sitting on the water’s edge, skimming stones, she couldn’t help but feel a strange presence surrounding her. She watched the stones skip along the surface bouncing into the unknown. An air of melancholy surrounded her and echoed the mood she harboured within. Lucy often heard told of the story of Mary Hannigan, banished to these
The last item I saw a baby pike was below the high bridge at Charlemont St. Luas stop on the Dublin’s Grand Canal waterway just in front of the Hilton hotel, on the edge of Ranelagh. It must have been early summer 2016. Just a canal-lock up from where a pair of swans have had
When my husband Larry and I retired we threw caution to the winds and bought ourselves a beautiful blue and white Freeman 27 cabin cruiser. I was beside myself with excitement as we paid our money and shook on the deal. Our friends drove us to Portaneena marina in Athlone where we boarded Aishlinn for
“Flow on lovely river – flow gently along ” The river Suir threads its way through the lush lowlands of South Tipperary, as it does through the pathways of my memories. Growing up in Carrick – on – Suir the river was a constant presence in our young lives. As children it was our playground;
I grew up not more than a hundred feet from the Conoboro Bridge, which spanned the River Erkina. My life is dotted with memories of the river, a river whose banks I’ve walked hundreds of times, a river whose trout I’ve caught for competitions and sport, a river with its own history and each individual
Riverdance. Where does that word take us? The O2 arena? possibly. No doubt it would be Bill Whelan’s stunning classic that was first performed in 1994 during the interval of the Eurovision Song Contest springs to mind. That however is not the riverdance that filled me with wonder and fascination; the one that I am