I had a chance to work with my photographs of the Dark Hedges in Northern Ireland to try to enhance the effect this lane of trees has on the visitor. Yes, these are photoshopped, but all for a good cause — this is truly a magical place.
In the Neolithic Age savage warfare did I wage For food and fame and woolly horses’ pelt.
I was singer to my clan in that dim, red Dawn of Man, And I sang of all we fought and feared and felt.
Still the world is wondrous large,—seven seas from marge to marge— And it holds a vast of various kinds of man… ~Rudyard Kipling from “In a Neolithic Age”
Today we acted like archeologists in Northern Ireland, traveling the countryside looking for the numerous “dolmens” or stone formations from 4000-5000+ years ago constructed during the Neolithic period in human history. These are considered “portal tombs” and like Stonehenge, may also have astrologic significance to these prehistoric peoples. Interestingly, they are scattered across the Irish countryside, mostly found in farmyards and fields, with hardly a sign to show the way to find them. In two cases, we needed to parkbeside a barn, open (and close) several gates so the cows and sheep don’t get out, to make our way to the dolmen.
The world is wondrous large indeed, as Kipling says in his homage to the Neolithics (and in the rest of the poem critiquing his fellow “modern” man). To think that humans, way before the pyramids, way before Abraham walked the earth, managed to figure out how to honor their dead by constructing formations of multi-ton stones on top of one another. They are so perfectly balanced to exist as they were intended for thousands of years. A vast various kind of man did this, a singer to his clan, in the “red dawn” of human history.
I am awed and humbled.
Nothing I have done could ever last like this.
Sometimes on summer evenings I step
Out of my house to look at trees
Propping darkness up to the silence.
~Paul Zimmer from “A Final Affection”
It isn’t summer quite yet, but soon. It does not feel like summer here in Northern Ireland although we did see some blue skies as we traveled to the northern coast to see Giant’s Causeway and castle ruins and a collection of seaside farms and villages unlike anywhere else in the world.
But my favorite moment was walking beneath these 300+ year old beech trees, now known as “Dark Hedges”, planted as an entry way to Grace Hill mansion, the Stuart family estate. Even in their old age, they cling to one another overhead, reaching out to their neighbors and creating the filtered light beneath. There is no sign pointing the way to this road –they are simply a lane in farming country that is particularly inspiring to experience. Today a farmer was mowing hay right next to the trees, probably bemused that anyone bothers to stop and take pictures of a few old trees.
The beeches have been around long before me, and with their overarching sheltering of each other, they will be here long after. I should be more like the twists and turns of the limbs of the beeches, reaching out, leaning in and holding on for dear life, to prop up the darkness so it can’t overwhelm.
As long as there is light, even just a little, all will be well.
“In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends.”
~ Kozuko Okakura
We spent a rainy afternoon touring the estate house and gardens at Mount Stewart on the eastern most peninsula in Northern Ireland while the rest of the country here was steeped in heavy security for the G8 Summit happening and President Obama’s arrival in Belfast with his family. We decided to bypass all the politics and find something beautiful. We succeeded.
Flowers are present for our most emotional times of life–to celebrate birth and comfort the dying, to show love and celebrate life long unions. They are a universal language, no matter the country. During our visit to Japan, the whole country was preparing for the annual festivals celebrating sakura, the cherry blossoms that are so beloved there. Here in Ireland, spring is late this year, so today we got to enjoy azaleas and rhododendrons and peonies all over again, as they are completely done blooming at home.
We are thrilled to find our floral friends blooming richly here, even with the stress and troubles of the recent decades in Northern Ireland, and the current economic struggles here and elsewhere. If the G8 Summiteers have trouble reaching any agreement, they just need to go find a garden to cultivate together. Voltaire understood that several centuries ago; we need to remind ourselves now that the best of friends will be constant through joy and sorrow.
I’m waiting, like any fern in a garden,
to be rained on, or sun-drenched.
Oh, I am little, little.
What is blessing but a largeness
so immense it crowds out
everything but itself?
~Luci Shaw from “On Retreat”
We are in Ireland now, amid drizzle and bluster. It is so familiar; it is home with a brogue. Soon we’ll head to stay 5 days in an old stone barn that belonged to Dan’s great great great grandparents. I can’t imagine our own barn would be still standing in 150 years, much less habitable.
We, so little, so very little, drenched with the history, waiting for the blessings of finding family soil.
Barnstorming 