Constable Lake is a lake near my house in County Cork. It is called Constable Lake because when England used to rule Ireland, there used to be policemen around the place. Back then the policemen were called constables. One day a constable got thrown in, so it was named Constable Lake after that. When my
A scene serene in my memory I store Of gazing down on Annaghearly lake shore The scene below mirrored the sky In a painting of beauty no money could buy The water below so calm and so blue With diamonds glistening and changing hue As snowy white swans with their brood of two Disturbed its
I was born a townie at Pound/Connolly Street, Sligo, in a three storey street house with a cold tap inside and a flush toilet outside. When I was about ten my two sisters and I spent a week with my dad’s parents on their farm at Rossmore, Riverstown. It was Eastertime. We were sent out
I first heard of Coomloughra when I set out to climb the “Coomloughra Horseshoe.” It’s one of the classic hiking and scrambling ridge routes in Ireland and takes in several mountain tops – Scregmore, Beenkeeragh, Carrantoohill and Caher. These have an average height of about 1,000 metres. Nestled several hundred meters below ,there are three
When I heard of this competition, I was reading a book called ‘Letter to My Younger Self’ where inspiring people shared moments that shaped their lives and on looking back, might offer advice to their sixteen- year-old selves. While this is not a letter, I found my thoughts wandering to days when I was maybe
Inchaguille Island is a wooded place of three hundred and sixty acres. Once a place of holy ancient people, more recently owned by the Guinness Family, Lord and Lady Ardilaun. They owned a large boat and the island had a small quay, at that time. The Guinness family and their guests travelled to the island
Quiet early morning finds me where the sweetest waters flow. I am where I always wanted to be, in Crosshaven, a place much loved by my parents, Donal and Imelda. Back in the days when I was a boy we holidayed up in Fennell’s Bay and watched the great ships sail out to sea. We
At the back of the house where I grew up there was a wet ditch, draining some good agricultural land. As I child I would go there most days with my net and bucket. Down through the shoulder high wheat, the dog ahead of me, jumping occasionally to find his bearings. I can still feel
In the late ’70s and right through the ’80s, my family spent our summer holidays in Curracloe, County Wexford. For me, it was just magical. Those two weeks every July and August in a rented mobile home in Whyte’s Caravan Park was the highlight of every year. Dad’s green Hillman Hunter, lovingly named “Betsy”, was
On the first day of our school holidays, we made sure our bikes were ready for the long Summer days ahead of them. Washed, tyres pumped, chain oiled, the dynamo working – in case you were out late, the carrier on the back tested in case someone needed a lift. Day two would begin the
I often wonder how today’s kids enjoy themselves. I mean really have fun. In an age where every mystery is quickly explained is there a need for Nancy Drew or Enid Blyton? Do they wake every Saturday morning with the same plans and exuberant energy that we had when we were kids? Will they ever
Maria stood outside the Harbour House. Her childhood home! When her father (a Clare man) got transferred from Leitrim to Sligo with the Department of Agriculture in 1962, he bought the Harbour House from the Harbour commission for around 800 pounds. Happy memories came flooding back; Daddy coming home from work and the two ducks