Fado, fado, when i was a young one, I walked daily, hail, rain or snow, on the banks of the river barrow near Athy, in Co. Kildare. Walking the boundaries of Laoise and Kildare, the same route as my mother and grandmother had done before me. I still walk this beautiful river today.
Early summer was the season. The dog roses were coming into bloom, wild angelica, Our Lady`s bedstraw and meadowsweet were perfuming the air delicately. Slipping my sandals off, I walked through the lush cool grass beneath my burning feet. Eventually finding a sun drenched spot, I laid back and embraced it all.
On hearing an extra-large splash I open my eyes and there in front of me is the largest pike that I have ever seen or hear about. It stared straight at me, balancing on its tail from the water. Then it smiled. All I remember next was a serious row of pike teeth heading straight for me. I was swallowed whole.
When I came back into my full senses I was in a whole new world. A world I never knew existed. A world under and in the river barrow.
My guide was the pike. I was shocked to find that I could easily breathe and also communicate with him through telepathy. The pikes name was Senacai Padra. He was the overseer of this stretch of the river barrow. He told me that I had been selected as the human witness due to our long family connection to this river. My job was to observe and then pass what I witnessed on.
He told me we were to celebrate the anniversary of the catching of the salmon of knowledge, through a re-enactment. Looking puzzled, I asked him why? he said that this was a yearly event to keep the spirit of magic and Ireland’s mythical soul alive. Stating that similar legends were being re-enacted in streams, river and oceans all around the island. “Why in the water?” I asked? Senaci Padra looked straight into me and said “the Irish people had started to forget the magic that is under their feet and coursing through their blood”.
He continued, “The fairy folk for example are seen as never having existed and as a result they have all but disappeared and gone to sleep underground, because of lack of acknowledgement”. “However it was the Tuatha De Danann that charged all of the waterways and rivers of Ireland with the memory of our magic and the job of keeping it alive! We do this by re-enacting all the legends and magical history of our forefathers. Those memories and deeds of magical bravery are then transported through every body of water, every tree, plant, place, animal and human living on this sacred island to remain in them for generations to come”. I was dumbfounded. In shock I continued to stare at him, trying to formulate another question, but he rushed me into a county village not unlike the hundreds I have seen before, all under the water. Gathered by a river that ran through was the Fianna, Brian Boru, the Banshee, fairy folk, leprechauns and giants of old. There in the middle of it all was Fionn Mac Cumhaill sucking his thumb. As soon as he grinned, thumb in mouth the music started up and the poitin came out. After introductions were made I joined this merry band and many a fine story I gathered.
I awoke and today I give witness by telling you. ………………………………………………………………….