My purple fingers gave the game away. The tell-tale signs of my blackberry picking on a sunny afternoon as I slowly feasted my way along the briers fringing a hilly boreen near Ballycastle.
Only the lyrical words of a poet could give meaning to the sad origins of Bunlahinch Clapper Bridge by the coast near Killeen, south of Louisburgh, a unique relic among Irish bridges and a reminder of a sad episode in Mayo’s tragic past.
A brisk south-westerly lifted the menagerie of cartoon character kites over the crescent of Trawmore strand in Keel.
We had a magical start to our journey to the Inishkea Islands from Blacksod. Shortly after leaving the harbour, we were joined by a school of playful dolphins swimming alongside and in front of the boat escorting us into the broad waters of the bay.
It’s early July and the tall and elegant foxgloves are in bloom along hedgerows and wild places all over Mayo. Its bright purple, bell-like flowers make the foxglove one of the most imposing and opulent of all our native wildflowers and its medicinal properties are used to treat heart failure.
The words hauntingly beautiful perfectly describe the Doolough Valley, evoking the natural wonder of this remote glacial scene of towering mountains and brooding lake that is forever scarred by the memory of the men, women and children who were left to die there during the Great Famine.
If there was a competition for the most beautiful wall in Mayo surely it would be hard to beat the dry stone wall at the entrance to Enniscoe House and Gardens nature trail when the fairy foxglove turns the structure into a vertical flower garden in early summer.
That lovely blue haze returned to Belleek Wood at Easter. The bluebells in bloom along the Fairy Trail burst into life at the first hint of spring warmth. A flood of native bluebells hazed the vista in a misty blue cloud along the winding forest trail; a scene that spoke of a timeless and magical […]
We miss so much that past generations loved – the walk along a quiet country road or boreen. Following the green line as I like to call it – that mossy band of worn grass flecked with cheerful daisies unfolding down the centre of the quiet byway inviting the walker to stroll further into the […]
When James Henry Casserly who was the first Station Master in Killala Railway Station was leaving in 1894, the people of Killala and Ballycastle came together to present him with a pocket watch as a token of the high esteem in which the community held the Galway native.