The Magic of Rain

Everyone in Ireland apologizes for the weather.  It's a national pastime, being sorry for clouds and rain and mist and wind.  No matter how many times we explain how truly delightful this brisk and wild weather is to us (folks under the heat dome in the states), the people here are deeply and genuinely sorry that it's raining again.

We set off on another legendary tour with Damian Stack yesterday (note: his name is correctly spelled here.  Sincere apologies for misspelling his name in prior posts.  Going forward, if anyone apologizes for the weather, I will explain again how sorry I am for misspelling the name of a Listowel legend).  This time we headed to Dingle, but meandered and explored for an entire day along the way.

"Evening at the River" watercolor on paper 9" x 12"

The rain, wind and mist, instead of dampening our spirits, created incredible eerie light everywhere we went.  It was impossible to take a bad photo.  We felt like hardened, warrior tourists out in the elements, soaked through our coats yet eager for more fascinating stops.  The beach in this photo was empty and wild, waves crashing and roaring, wind whipping and rain pelting our faces.  Yet we played in the rocks, looking for treasures when others might cower in cars.  

Ancient oratories (places of prayer) with markings so old they are likely druid.  A cemetery so old it combined Viking gods with Christianity in a beautiful mix of ornate carved buildings with primitive cat head sculptures and stone markings predating modern written language.  Check out this incredible church and cemetery here: Kilmalkadar Church

Our incredible tour guide filled us with Winegums and Sours as we raced along the coast in the rain, awe inspired over ruins we could touch, climb over, explore, all  with the taste of modern confection rolling about in our mouths.

We traveled two miles up a gravel road to see Glanteenassig Wood, deep in mountains which reminded Diane of Colorado.  The wind raced through the valley making waves on the hidden lake in straight vertical lines, hillsides scarred with fallen trees where the wind left casualties in the past.  Check out this hidden gem on Trip Advisor here:  Glanteenassig Wood

There were crashing waves the color of sea glass underneath steep cliffs along the roadside, a huge crucifix on a mountainous shore which was the last glimpse of Ireland seen from ships filled with immigrants long ago, remains of cottages occupied during famine years and green, everywhere green lush landscape as far as the eye could see.

It wasn't all misty ruins and moody landscapes, however.  Damian's jokes and pranks kept us on our toes, while a random herd of cows crossing the road made us jump out of the car full of smiles and squeals of delight.

There was no paint o'clock on a rainy travel day, so the piece at the beginning of this blog was painted days before, along the banks of the River Feale just as the sun was setting, flashing brilliantly along the water.

​We return to lovely Listowel from Dingle today, newly inspired and ever more enamored of this wild and beautiful land.