The Emerald Isle

[First of probably many posts about Ireland, depending on how burned out I get. I decided to go by topic rather than simply a day-by-day retelling of our itinerary. See also the facebook album. Many of these reflections were at least partially written while there, but I'll add in as necessary.]

For an island the size of Maine, Ireland packs in a lot of foliage and rock formations, and a surprisingly large amount of the land seems untouched (though I'm sure we intentionally kept to the scenic route). It truly is the Emerald Isle, and rightly named. The 280-some days of rain a year makes even the rocks green with moss. The hillsides are disected by hand built stone walls, blocking off small pens, grazing fields, and land borders. Gathered from the fields by the first farmers, the rock was left scattered after the Ice-Age glacier crept over the landscape, wreaking havoc on the hillside and depositing building material as it went. Now the walls are essentially a national landmark and must be repaired if damaged.

The fields are also dotted with sheep and newborn lambs, their famous wool marred with paint splotches to claim them lest they wander from their owner's land. Spotted cows, known for the high-quality milk they produce from grazing on the nutrient rich grass, are also scattered among the hills.

Green, too, are the forests of trees--once covering most of the island--the mosses, the hedges, the famed Cliffs of Moher, and the 600 million-year-old Connemara marble mined from the hills. There are no mountains as such, the tallest peak coming in at some 3,000 feet, but the colors of granite and the crystal lakes reflecting the light more than make up for it, as well as the panoramic views of the Atlantic and the many bays.

The Atlantic from the Ring of Kerry

I think of all of it, my favorite was the Kylemore Abbey and gardens, a Victorian-style castle set on the shores of a lake surrounded by hills. Vegetation carpets the valley, and the largest walled gardens on the island house acres of herbs, vegetables, and flowers (8,000 bulbs and 18,000 seeds planted every year), surrounded by majestic oak forests. All overlooked by a large Sacred Heart statue halfway up the hill, erected in thanksgiving by the Benedictine nuns.

The view from Kylemore Abbey

Even in the cities and towns, color abounds. For several hundred years of English occupation, the Irish were forbidden from owning their homes, so now, with those restrictions lifted, they proudly mark them with bright paint. Every section of building is claimed with blues, reds, yellows, and pinks,
making the streets look like a Venetian village. It's also said that in Ireland, the men paint their doors distinct colors so they can find their homes as they drunkenly wander home from the pubs each night.

All in all, God's hand in creation was evident every step of our trip, in both vastness and minute details, making for a very scenic pilgrimage indeed.