April 28, 2018 · Kinvarra, Ireland
A ‘Mistical’ evening has been mystical, and is the case with my writings a bit mythical too.
Tonight, I was to chase the moon, but it eluded me. I tried to follow it from the view out of the Pier Head to Dungaire Castle to the shores of Fanore, but it played a hiding game behind cloud, stone and brush.
Left standing on the limestone of the Burren I looked across the sea to the isles of Aran (Inis Mór, Inishmaan, and Inisheer), and the mountains of the Connemara. Ran To’Ahy my mistical amazement, I witnessed something I had not seen before, a bridge connecting the Isle’s Aran to the Mountain’s Connemara. Connecting the isles to the mountains and the mountains to the isles. They looked white as snow, but shaped as candy floss across the waters of the sea named for a lost city of yore.
As I watched, I filmed and recorded this event of land, sea and clouds, colored by the setting of the sun, as a connection was made that would permit those happy enough to want to walk on clouds to do so from Aran to Connemara and back.
As I looked in amazement, I could see the moon over my shoulder laughing and hiding, beckoning me to chase it, That I will, but in the morn before it sets, I this time will follow it, as it sets in the mysterious waters of the Isle Erin.
Ines Neiva these are the islands you share a name. Beth McCann
