The River Castletown

She looked into the screen and waved goodbye to her students. Closing her textbook, she switched off the laptop, the diminishing icon heralding the end to her online classes for the day. Her mood was unusually low, these were strange times after all. Perhaps some fresh air might lift the heaviness from her mind. The

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The River Feale

The River Feale rises in the Mullaghareirk Mountains in Rockchapel, Co Cork, flows through Limerick into Kerry, finally emptying into the sea at the Cashen near Ballybunion. It is a fast flowing spate river subject to flooding in persistent rainfall, large, deep fish holding pools dominate the river seabed. The final six miles is called

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The River Moy

On the border of East Mayo and Roscommon a little river rises in the hills. It winds past old cottages, trickles under grassy Boreens and loops around fields full of livestock. Eventually it meets the mighty River Moy and joins the Atlantic Ocean at Killala. This tiny Mayo river runs on two sides of my

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The Royal Canal

A docile giant with fringed hooves cropped tail, strong leather harness and long thick rope slowly pulled a wooden barge into the harbour. On the bank, a waiting crowd of paupers, priest and gentry cheered, celebrated and applauded its arrival. The barge was secured and, as the passengers disembarked, the drone of bagpipes was heard

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The Floating Sandwich

This is a true story told to me by my Nana one day One day while we were sitting by our little stream having lunch with our Nana, she was reminded of a story that her grandmother, Ellen, told her back in the 1950s when she was on her annual summer holiday with her, on

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The Gap

My Father, the Fisherman I can still see him standing at The Gap, a local fishing spot in Thomastown, casting his line into the surging water – a man who loved the river bank and who’d spend hours waiting for the salmon to bite. Many times I was there when a tug would come on

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The Ghosts of Clonea

Night was closing in, smothering us in darkness. I sat on the old, rickety bench watching the fire twist and swirl in a never-ending dance. I held my marshmallow out on a skewer and waited until it was brown. I picked it off and plopped it in my mouth savouring its warmth and softness as

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The Glas Lochs

One of my favourite places in the world is the mouth of the harbour in Berehaven, with Ardnakinna lighthouse looking down on you from your port side and the Pipers Rocks standing tall and secure to starboard. Even more special are the Glas Lochs, a series of lakes in a scooped-out basin in the Caha

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The Grand Canal

My nearest body of water is the Grand Canal. I lived at the 21st Lockhouse, Ballycommon for many years. My Grandad, James Fisher, is the lock keeper at this lock and I have many special memories of helping him open locks and put boats through. Locks are essential when the canal flows through territory which

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The Granny on the Shanon

“Granny is going to be 80” someone said. “What could we do?”. “How about a boat trip on the Shannon for all of us? You know how she loves boats”. “Oh, come ON -it’s MARCH”. “Well, how else could you please a clan of twenty-three of us, aged from 80 down to 7?” Emerald Star

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The Grass is Always Greener

The grass is always greener on Instagram #wildatlanticway. Scenes of brilliant green fields with cliffs, beaches and meandering coastline, sun breaking through cumulus clouds. A mythical fairy land, beautiful, stunning, spectacular. The images on my phone inspire me to get in the car and drive for an hour and a half until I reach the

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The Greise River

When I stand on the bridge in Ballytore and look into the river, I am taken back to childhood remembering happy times spent walking the banks, going to and from school in Crookstown, and paddling in the shallows below the bridge. The Greise river rises in Tubber Co. Wicklow and flows into the ‘Barrow, near

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