The Arans loom before my eye
Lonely and desolate they call to me,
"Return, restore your soul."
Judy Calheiros ©May 1999
Close your eyes and, for those far from her, imagine yourself in Ireland. Your day begins like the the one before. Light mist blankets the countryside. But this day is going to be different. Today you will step back in time, to a place like no other you've seen yet.
A windy, noisy ferry ride begins the adventure. If you're the adventurous type, you'll stand at the railing of the tiny vessel, feel the wind blow in your hair, and smell the salty sea air. Suddenly someone shouts, "Over there!" A splash. Has someone fallen overboard? You see a sleek, brown head bobbing a safe distance away...a seal...or could it be a selkie?
You finally get your attention back to the island of Inishmore looming ahead of you and the ferry docks. As soon as you set foot on dry land, you are bombarded with tour offers. Tour van drivers, bicycles for hire. You can choose to go it on foot, but then you see the horse drawn buggy and native Inishmore driver. Your mind is made up and you opt to pay the slightly higher price for the quaint buggy. The driver, you find, is more than just someone to guide the horse. He serves as tour guide and master story teller. And if you're fortunate, as I was, he'll patiently answer all your many questions.
With a slight jerk, you're off on your journey. The narrow roads that carve through the island are roughly paved, and an occasional car forces the buggies to the side, but if not for that, you would believe you've stepped into an era of the past. Your driver greets a passerby in a language you don't understand, (unless you speak Gaelic, of course). Green but rocky hills roll on either side, each field separated by low stone walls held together with...nothing. Your tour guide explains.
For centuries, all over Ireland, the stone dividers have been stacked the same way. It's an art, a precise science, taught at a young age for very practical reasons. When leading flocks of sheep or herds of cattle from one pasture to another, farmers would take down a part of the wall, lead their animals through, then stack it up again, no harm done.
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