The minnows sparkled below the threads of wet sunlight. Too fast for me to catch. Wading through the water, so cold despite the warm June weather; water straight from the Blackstairs; cool, and clean, and pure. The straight monolithic bridge cut across the curving of the stream, and the weeds, and the trees. This, the
Is páiste na farraige mé. Is I mí lúil ar bhád iascaireacht idir Inis Mór agus Ros a Mhíl a rugadh mé. Mi an t-uisce má chreideann tú i gcomharthaí na Sloidiaca. Táim comportach leis an bhfarraige ó thús mo shaol. Is í m’áit shabhálta í agus is aoibhinn liom a bheith ar an uisce.
We were inland children; we knew nothing of the tides or the ocean. The river running through our land is woven into our lives and we learn with our scrutiny, the depth of our experience outweighing the lack of width. We know our river is connected to an intricate pattern of lakes and bigger rivers
I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.” ― John O’Donohue The Liffey runs by our town but not through it. Running east to west it intersects the Naas/Dublin road at its northern end. Curving leisurely through the strand, it meanders past the old watering gates,
Our story is of creating our own waterside for nature, in 2018 we began the task of creating a community garden in our council estate in Rathcoffey, Co Kildare. There was about 1 and a half acres of waste ground lying idle and costing the council the earth to maintain, as a resident’s association we
‘We go for a walk down the Glen with mammy and daddy every day. We go on an adventure. We see lots of creatures. We saw a fish jumping to eat a fly. We saw little black eels swimming that look like worms. They are my favourite and the boatmen that swim very fast on
My water story begins with the moon- the phased journey of my being governed by and piloted by the ebb and flow of energy through the universe. Each month the moon journey around the earth creates tides that ebb and flow, high and low and carries a power that I believe is rooted in my
Madlin, sing to me, oh happy trickle. Of watery song and ocean’s ripple. From Johnduffs Wood through Molaise’s haunt to Dinn Righ and Barrow’s jaunt. Just a moment, I require, before your spirits they expire. When I was but as a trickle, I splashed around, bold and fickle. Coming down the Barrack Hill, I pranced
The tractor trundled slowly over the bridge and jerked to a stop midway. “Ah it’s only yourself Albert. Are you fishing?” I was just about to reply when tractor stuttered into life. Summer on the farm is no time for long conservations, but the thread of our chat can be continued later on. Myself and
Some of my earliest childhood memories is of the waters of Lough Foyle shimmering beautifully in the summer sunshine. Lough Foyle an estuary located between counites Donegal and Derry. The bright sunshine seemed to make its waters reflect like strings of diamonds shouting out to one and all, come and enjoy my bathing, my boating,
Ever since I was a young boy my Daddy and also my Grandparents have taken me fishing. My grandad is 85 and granny is 82. They live near me and we regularly travel to lakes in Roundwood. I caught my first fish there when I was only 3. We were in a boat and I
Over the past thirty years I would visit a favourite stretch of shore line on Gweebarra bay. This bay is where the Gweebarra River curves around before reaching the sea. I would cross the most beautiful field on a hill with a view upriver and across to Dooey and the headland beyond and as far