From up on Garraun you can see out along Renvyle peninsula. Glasilaun, Lettergesh, Mullaghloss, and Tullycross somewhere hidden. Names known since I’ve known names. Distilled summers of wave on wave, collapsing in rushes, scrambling down grassy slopes. The sea so broad and wide below you can’t take it all in. Or in the other direction,…
A big blue tent, in a grassy field, between a cathedral and the River Corrib, July 2015. The Little Green Cars open for St Vincent’s Digital Witness, the feature preeesentation. For a change it’s not raining, though it’s not exactly balmy. Good enough! On with the gig, and better than good enough. You know it’s…
Máméan, Pass of the Birds According to legend, St. Patrick blessed Connemara from a well at the top of the pass, and slept there (“Leaba Padraic”=”Patrick’s bed”), though to my limited knowledge there was stuff going on there before that too. There is now a little chapel next to the well and mounds of stones…