Seventeen Stones
Seventeen closely placed stones with an axis pointing south-southwest toward the setting sun, formed by two “entrance” stones, one directly behind Pam, the second to the left. The recumbent in front of her forms the third axis element.
The path features in the past three posts is behind the entrance stones.
Exotic beauty
It is not surprising to find this non-native shrub growing along the path to Drombeg Stone Circle. English gardens featured fuchsia since the late 18th century. The ocean view is part of the charm of this place, the resulting milder climate suits the flourishing of exotic species of plants native to South America, the Caribbean and New Zealand.
Rock Native
This unidentified spring of racemes, fleshy leaves and stalks, grew from the rock wall of the entry path to Drombeg Stone Circle. Here the climate is strongly influenced by the Celtic Sea, milder winters allow exotic plants to flourish.
My appraisal is this is in the Crassulaceae family, possibly the genus Kalanchoe or, more probably Umbilicus, from the fleshy, round, succulent leaves and form of the flowers. Species of Umbilicus are native to Western Europe and known to favor rock walls.
Path to the late Bronze Age
Path well trodden through the centuries since.
Last views from Kinsale, County Cork
The view referred to by placard is to the right. The Old Head of Kinsale is the distant landform, looking right to left, is the portion that drops off to the ocean.
Here is a Google Maps screen capture showing the relationship of our position (the unnamed red drop-pin) on the right, and the Old Head of Kinsale landform, seen below the lable “Ballylane.”
Here are the views looking toward the Celtic Sea, the Old Head of Kinsale and the cliffs at our feet.
This cemetery is unmarked on the maps I use.
Here is a Google Earth view of our walk, the red line. The view is looking east from above the former “de Courcy family parkland.”
Old and New Forts
As Pam and I past the scenes of bucolic reverie this sign drew us back to the past. The reference to de Courcy is as a family of invading Normans. John de Courcy, without the King’s permission, launched an 1176 AD invasion of northeastern Ireland, what is now County Down, as an ultimately failed land grab. The history is murky, though apparently John de Courcy’s son Miles acquired the land referred to in the placard through the English King Henry II, awarded to Miles’ thieving, murderous Norman father-in-law Milo de Cogan in the 13th Century. Much later, the old (James) and new (Charles) Forts were constructed to defend Kinsale harbor.
Here is a Google Maps screen capture showing the relationship of our position (the unnamed red drop-pin) on the right, Charles and James Forts and the de Courcy family parklands, the large blank area below the pin named “Dock beach.”
Here are the views looking toward the Celtic Sea, the Old Head of Kinsale and the cliffs at our feet.
Looking Around
As Pam and I continued down the half mile “Sallyport” footpath, marked in red on the Google Earth view provided at the end of this post, we enjoyed the view across the Celtic Sea toward the distant Old Head of Kinsale and this sailboat headed to port.
Landward, we enjoyed watching the progress of a farmer rolling hay bales while cows munched fresh green grass.
Dún Chathail
A “dun” is a larger fortification, few and far between on the island of Ireland. We saw one on the Arran Islands, from the Iron Age, Dun Angus, Charles Fort, or Dún Chathail in Irish, is from historical ages.
A cannot tell from my slide show, but the walls are star shaped with many salients, giving more positions to defend the walls.
“Charles Fort” – wikipedia
A Poem to accompany our arrival at Carlingford
To close our time on the Tain Way I offer a poem written and presented to the congregation of the First Unitarian church of Ithaca New York 25 years ago, 1992. Interspersed are final photographs from our walk on the Tain Way of 2014.
The poem content is not directly biographical / confessional although it draws upon my experience as a single parent in the 1980’s through 1990’s.
A Poem Read To The Congregation
I
a crisis threatened an Irish village
men women children filled the meeting place
everyone participated especially the infants
in spite of it all a plan was arrived at
after the vote
from the back of the room a man called out
….you know the type…
THIS WILL BE OUR PLAN
UNTIL
WE FIND OUT WHAT IT IS.
II
my son John and I have a photo of him at 5 years
washing dishes
standing on a chair up to his elbows in rubber gloves
the caption reads “Two Men On Their Own.”
i had agreed to accept a divorce from helen
only if john was left with me
one night in particular stands out from that time
i did not sleep for planning what john and I would do
seven years passed
not a long time
since then we’ve moved
found another a better life
raising John alone was not part of the plan
Its been just john and me
helen gave birth to john
to have a part of me
in case of loss
i felt the same way
and she understood
a welcome
feminine voice in our home
“Little House on the Prairie”
and
“Little House in the Big Woods” twice.
Here is an excerpt from a newspaper article by Wilder
called “HOME”
that has an emotional resonance for me
dated 1923
Wilder was in her 50’s.
Out in the meadow, I picked a wild sunflower, and as I looked into its golden heart, such a wave of homesickness came over me that I almost wept. I wanted Mother, with her gentle voice and quiet firmness; I longed to hear Father’s jolly songs and to see his twinkling blue eyes; I was lonesome for the sister with whom I used to play in the meadow picking daisies and wild sunflowers.
Across the years, the old home and its love called to me, and memories of sweet words of counsel came flooding back. I realize that’s all my life the teaching of these early days have influenced me, and the example set by Father and Mother has been something I have tried to follow, with failure here and there, with rebellion at times; but always coming back to it as the compass needle to the star.
So much depends upon the homemakers. I sometimes wonder if they are so busy now with other things that they are forgetting the importance of this special work. Especially did I wonder when reading recently that there was a great many child suicides in the United States during the last year. Not long ago we had never heard of such a thing in our own country, and I am sure there must be something wrong with the home of a child who commits suicide.
we give so much to our children
what’s left over though
is ours
William Carlos Williams wrote
it is difficult to get the news from poems
yet men diet miserably every day
for lack
of what is found there
it is not difficult to understand this
to live it is another matter
you have to live it
in order to have something
left over
never the less
my emotional resonance in reading that piece
“Home”
did not come from the sentiments Wilder so skillfully evoked
though I shared them it was that sharp part
i did not agree with it lacking a reason
and so must have re-read
“Home”
fifty times a hundred
who knows
so committed to speak today
and began to write
something was bound to shake loose
then those lines form Deuteronomy
gave themselves to me
Before you this day is set good and evil, life and death.
Choose life, that both you and your descendants might live.
“Home” was a twist of these lines
as long ago as 1923
Wilder was experiencing our present
contemplating the unthinkable
Wilder held her own experience as a shield
and denied such a tragedy
could ever touch her
for me the result
is a beautiful poisoned apple
innocently offered
by a treasured friend
life is a gift
not entirely under our control
Yes we must be careful
but for some this is not enough
we must forgive others
and ourselves
************************************************************************
Kinsale, a historic seaport in County Cork, showcases unique architecture and geography, with its streets and houses built on steep inclines near the river Bandon.
The first of a series of idiosyncratic posts from a 2014 walking tour of Kinsale.
Text from an poster behind glass accessible to all and sundry. Directory 1846 Munster, Kinsale with the villages of Cove and Scilly. Kinsale is a seaport, parliamentary borough and market town in the parishes of Saint Multose and Ringcurran barony of Kinsale, County of Cork, 172 miles s.w. from Dublin, 121/2 s and 11 e.s.e. from Bandon; eligibly situated near the mouth of the river Bandon or Glasson, (as it was formerly called), which here forms a capacious and square harbor, accessible in nearly all weathers, and navigable for vessels of any tonnage. the origin of this place, from its great antiquity, is but imperfectly known, and the derivation of its name is compassed by doubt. Cean Taile (Cionn tSáile), signifying in Irish “Headland in the Sea” is said to be its ancient appellation. (see more in the photograph).
Here we are on Emmet Place. There is a row of houses built along a steep alley named “The Stoney Steps.” At top is the aptly named Higher O’Connell Street.
From the informative poster…The streets rise in a singular and in regular manner of acclivity of an eminence called Compass Hill, the house ranging tier above tier, many of them on sites excavated in the solid rock, while other are perched on the level of some projecting crag: the descent is exceedingly precipitous, and the dwelling are inaccessible to carriages, except from the summit of the hill or from Main street, which takes a circuitous course along the shore of the harbor.
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 