Rachfá thairis I ngan hfios duit féin-ifántas de ghiolcaigh agus locháin uisce ag síneadh uait go bun na spéire nó ar a laghad go cuar line sail I bhfad thios sa riasc.Anois tá conair dúlra,cosáin hféir agis ionad oideachais ar an láthair ach an mhaidin sin,an chéad lá de shéasúr seilge na néan sa bhliain
An inter-city express train rushed by the top of Valentine’s glen. The crows circled above the tree tops as the pines, oaks and chestnuts whispered secrets to each other. Then once again, the glen was silent. “It’s beautiful here. So peaceful,” said Claire. “Most of the time,” the old man looked down at the river
Once upon a time a young girl at the age of twelve named Cassie lived under Reenkilla in a city called CLAM TOWN. Cassie lived next to her best friends Johnny and Dory. Then one brisk evening they were outside a Coral Diner finishing off their Kelpcorn when all of a sudden ……………………..BANG!!!!!!!! Out of
Drip, drip, drip. It must be raining. Ah yes I can feel the ripples now on my eyeballs. Not that it makes much of a difference to me. I’ve been a toad at the Shannon Wetlands for 10 years now – man and boy. I love it here. I’ve got my 20 siblings around me
Newpark in the 1960’s was isolated on the periphery of Kilkenny City. A plethora of young families settled on the newly constructed estate. This dynamic helped to change the neighbourhood into bustling community. Freedom of movement allowed youthful enthusiasms to flourish as children made their way in a relaxed, friendly and safe environment. Central to
What started out as a favour for a close family friend turned into a treasure hunt, then a healing place, a history lesson, an eye-opener. Enough of the riddle. Let’s begin. Onnolee’s son, Fintan told me at her memorial service in Pasadena that when she died she wanted to leave a little herself in this
When I was a little girl, I spent many hours wandering the stately rooms and echoing hallways of Castletown House, admiring the elegance of the country house, skipping through corridors and rooms big and small, noting every item of furniture and counting every secret doorway. My mother worked as a guide there when the house
It’s amazing how you can spend your whole life passing through a space, and still know so little of it. Caught up in the clamour of everyday life, you often overlook the backstreets and the laneways. The nooks and crannies off the beaten path from which we seldom stray. The lockdown changed that for lots
Beyond Gallows Green in Cork city is a great lough, where people once skated in winter-time. At the bottom are buildings and gardens, more beautiful than anything seen today. The tops and towers are visible to those who look into the lough with perfect eyesight. These buildings come from the time of King Core, whose
I would walk along the Barrow and let all my grief go with the river. You see the river flowed right behind my shared apartment and in that complicated first year away from home I would walk with it. Walk with it when angry, when lonely, when worried, or sometimes when just bored. The Barrow
They sat two metres apart. I could just barely fit them into my screen view. Like pillars at the edge, only seated and relaxed. It was Brendan and Pat. Brendan, in his 70s cocooning for the pandemic. Pat, a regular caller, checking in to see if everything was okay with him. And it was, for
I listen to the stove, rumble, growl A black bear caged in the chimney breast. My mind steps back I see Grandmother boiling water for the morning tea, The black kettle over the fire. I hear her imperious voice. ” Marty, we need water from the Well”. We walk down the fields to the bottom