Dedicated to my Mother who lived on both sides of its shore. Is this the right road for the lake? was a frequent enquiry of my childhood; one that often gave rise to all manner of elaborate descriptions and warnings of diversions to avoid, when really all I needed have said was just follow the
2006 was the centenary of Fr. Pat O’Loughlin’s arrival in Gurteen. Fr. Pat was a colourful individual, responsible for many projects in the parish, among them, a series of Sunday afternoon dances on the islet at the centre of Loughnahinch Lake. Two boats carried patrons to and from the dances and the all-in fee was
Ní dhéanfaidh mé dearmad go deo ar an lá sin. Bhí mé i mo shui lasmuigh mo teachín ag smaoineamh ar mo lá ag iascaireacht agus ar ghabháil bheag na ronnach. Ní mhairfeadh sé níos mó na cúpla lá agus deir said go mbeidh sé an-stoimúil go luath. Bhí imni orm. D’fheach mé amach chun
A white enamel mug with a blue rim sat on a little stone with a tuft of grass shading it. Always turned upside down, ensuring that no insect would invade it, when not in use. This mug had a small chip on the bottom of it exposing a dark rust colour. This colour was similar
As I write, it is the 22nd April. The sun is shining, the bees are buzzing, the birds are singing, and the temperature is 19°C. Social isolation is beginning to bite hard. Many of my angling friends are suffering from cabin fever. We must stay within a 2km radius of home. I live in Cahir,
On the approach to Kilruane village, on the Nenagh to Cloughjordan road, there is a large area of wetland and bog. Between the bog and the road stands the parish hall – locally known as the floating ballroom. I am sure there are great stories told of dances and plays held there over the years.
There’s a lake near my home in County Mayo that’s a very special place. I feel a strong connection to this lake and its rich biodiversity. This special place is Lough Carra. Lying beneath the water is a thick bed of marl, soft chalky mud. Around the shores of the lake there are still a
He walked to Lough Derg every day during lockdown. By himself. It wasn’t lost on him how blessed he was, to have such beauty within two kilometres of his home. He didn’t have to worry about social distancing, he met no one except the birds. He would start most days at the inlet of Castle
‘The Lough has a mind of its own’, so the natives declare. Lough Funshinagh – the lake of the ash tree, there is none like it in Ireland, or Europe indeed. It overflows, then disappears almost fully, then overflows again. A type of turlough they say, we have many a version in our county of
She was feared and fearless. The Queen of Connaught. Meabh rode her black stallion from county to county in the search for property. There were many warlords who were seduced by her beauty. Once she had him in her lover’s lair and his property signed over, she killed him. No one could resist her beauty
Well was when my story really began. Following directions, I found the well, and filled my bucket. As I made my way back, I met a neighbouring young man whom I had known previously as a lankly shy bashful young fellow who always carried a hurley while he was romance It was the Summer of
Oh how the memories come lfooding back of my childhood, the wonderful itmes we had in Graces bog, 6 acres of magic at the back of my own home. Every season had something different to offer in this oasis of beauty. Oh how I remember the morning mist as it rose over this wonderful place