An old castle on an island in the forest, not far from Bealtaine Cottage, and where I walked today with my daughter, Cara, whose birthday we celebrated, with a walk through this magical landscape on a glorious autumn day.
This is Lough Key and the castle once belonged to the MacDermott clan who lived here hundreds of years ago.
The castle is mentioned frequently in the ancient annals, being a focus for both fighting and partying.
Brian of the Carrick, Chief 1585-92, is reported to be last head of the clan to live on the island.
During this time the park was called Moylurg and the Kings of Moylurg were the MacDermotts.
Just resting against this tree made me feel joyous…what amazing energy and strength emanates forth from trees like this!
The mighty Oak has had importance and great significance to the Celts, from ancient to modern times.
This is where the ancestors worshipped and held important events in the old calendar, for the Oak Grove was considered sacred.
The Druids made their magic wands from only three woods…Yew, Oak and Apple.
As the sap begins to drop in the trees and the leaves turn colour, Ivy, that has previously been shaded out by canopy, emerges into its own, as a permanent reminder to us all that spring will return.
The evergreen girdle of Ivy, on many trees, keeps a host of small birds and insects warm and fed over the dark days of winter.
Similarly, the girdle of Moss, around the base of the mighty Oak, will secure the winter for many small creatures.
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or visit the Etsy shop and purchase a hand-made or vintage product.
Cats can work out mathematically the exact place to sit that will cause most
inconvenience. ~Pam Brown (Indeed…sitting in my seat, I do believe)!
A catless writer is almost inconceivable. It’s a perverse taste, really, since
it would be easier to write with a herd of buffalo in the room than even one
cat; they make nests in the notes and bite the end of the pen and walk on the
typewriter keys. ~Barbara Holland
I bought this painting recently, having been drawn towards it and virtually hypnotised into the purchase…it is old and evokes a sense of 1950’s rural Ireland…and one of my favourite authors wrote expansively about this time…Edna O’Brien.
artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his
pictures. ~Henry Ward Beecher
There has never been a cat
Who couldn’t calm me down
Past my chair.
History is a cyclic poem written by Time upon the memories of man. ~Percy
Today I went for a lovely, long walk, down in the old park around what was an ancient house by Lough Key. This is the old stable block as seen through the portcullis…
If one could make alive again for other people some cobwebbed skein of old dead
intrigues and breathe breath and character into dead names and stiff portraits.
That is history to me! ~George Macaulay Trevelyan
This is the old family church near where the old house once stood…the roof has gone and the shell of the beautiful old building stands alone…
Strange Clouds, Cold Evening and Dry Well!
Dinner guests, dry well and crazily cold…but a picnic was the best option given the circumstances…so Lough Key forest Park beckoned and off I went armed with the makings of a jolly good time…yep, you’ve guessed right…home made wine and a wide selection!
This is growing on the side of a big log of cut wood near the veranda. Some kind of Fungi…not quite sure and am in the process of scouring books to try to find out! It’s soft, like a giant marshmallow and this is the actual size…but it appears to be growing…
Walking by Lough Key yesterday with the Tomster and his mum…well it WAS Mother’s Day and Tommy wanted to give his old mum a treat! …this tree, magnificent in its ancient grandeur.
Standing right up against it, heart to heart, looking up, skywards, through its giant arms towards the sky…it took my breath away!
And the little boat, nestled into the calm stillness of the lough…
And enough Ramsons, (Wild Garlic), to feed the world, growing everywhere in this massive old estate that was…the heady scent of delicate flavoursome food being carried on the cool, evening air…
…with just enough daylight left to harvest the first Rhubarb of the year and…
…make a Rhubarb Crumble, before saying goodnight to the Tomster and heading off out to dinner, Crumble in one hand, home-made Redcurrant Wine in the other…FRUGAL LIVING?…are you kidding?