Sixth in a series......
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| Green Fields, Blue Skies and Memories |
By: Jacqueline E. Hughes
Green. A beautiful color. Forty different shades of it definitely describes the Ireland we have come to know and love. Thank you, Mr. Cash! I believe you may have 'nailed' that one...
As an occasional visitor to this colorful island, my attention is drawn to the variations of the color green (my favorite color, in fact) when I scan the rich, glossy darkness of green valleys, or the olive tones of unending fields bathed in golden sunlight and the moss that clings to, well, just about everything, or witness the calming blue/green hues of an 'ancient forest' bisected by a gravelly path secretly begging to be conquered. Then there is the deep purple/green of the expansive shoreline of Ireland's many inland lakes, outlined by volcanic rock washed smooth by foamy waves day after day and resembling a child's coloring-book picture outlined in black to accentuate its perimeter. Oh, the joy of the color green!
One moment, please!
My own two eyes, as well as the camera lens, can attest to many other shades of reflected light (color) that is predominant within the outstanding landscape provided by Ireland. We have sturdy shades of gray and ochre that form the solidity of her many mountains. There are rock walls and ancient structures built by man from this incredible source of material. Fifty shades of gray, at least, and a much better 'read' into and for the mind than the modern paperback trilogy best seller of today by that title... Who is not enamored by the sight of a quaint stone cottage replete with a thatched roof or the construction feats demonstrated by the existence of long ago castles and more modern abbeys and hunting lodges that sweep the Irish countryside?
Blue. The spaces between the white clouds above, as well as the green fields below. Not only does this amazing color totally surround the land in terms of the Atlantic Ocean and the Irish Sea, but its inland lakes offer varying shades of it anywhere from cold, steely grays to cheerful summertime aquamarine with one changing into another within a matter of moments depending on the sun, cloud cover or rain.
We began walking the Newvillage Recreation Area moderate trail one morning which turned out to be a three and a half mile, cardio-intense gravel walk in the shape of a horseshoe that gently meandered through the undulating woods on the outskirts of Oughterard. Deviating off of The Western Way as we followed along the shores of Lough Corrib, we entered this fairy tale world of canopied vegetation dripping with sparkling raindrops and sporadic rays of sunlight newly emerging minutes into our walk. When we stopped for a few moments to take it all in, we discovered the soothing sounds of a gurgling stream and crisp late September leaves scrunching under the weight of invisible predators. The crunch, crunch of the gravel beneath our hiking shoes accompanied us once again like the rhythm of a Sousa march as we navigated the horseshoe bend and found we were elevated high above Lough Corrib that now dazzled us with its trail of royal blue water punctuated by minute white caps in the distance. We were alive within the harmonious state of sounds and color and there was no other place at that exact moment we would rather be...
I remember looking out over land and sea on the summit of Diamond Hill several days before as I cataloged the shimmering blue dots of Lough Auna, Nahillion and Kylemore and my eyes scanned the wider 'blues' of Killary and Ballynakill Harbors that led out to the darkening depths of the Atlantic Ocean. One can easily observe the harmony between land and water at this height and understand a little bit better how masterfully this intriguing island was formed so many years before.
As my husband graciously chauffeured us around the colorful natural beauty of Connemara, I grew to appreciate every aspect of the area and proceeded to catch as much as I physically could with my trusty Canon camera in hand. It's quite a treat for me to look back at all of my pictures to find that many of my 'collections' are strictly cataloged by their color!! I even find myself prefacing each with a color description such as 'gray' fences or 'brightly colored' boats or crumbling 'gray' houses and mucky 'brown' bog lands. For some reason the integrity of color is heightened and intensified for me in Ireland. It isn't just the meandering expanse of the River Shannon, but rather the intense blue water of the River Shannon outlined by the bright green grasses along its shoreline. Ireland seems to enhance my senses and allows me to see deeper into the natural beauty of her landscapes, man-made engineering wonders, as well as her delightful and extremely hospitable people. I definitely feel 'right at home' when in Ireland.
Even though I sit here now holding tightly to the souvenir rock I brought home and captured from beneath the chilled waters of Lough Corrib, its vibes tell me to wait for another day to post the pictures and personal story of our time along its magnificent shores. My heart wishes to share the color gray with you, yet again, in the form of once very personal places lived and loved in by Irish families some years ago and now left to decay in the harsh weather from season to season like forgotten testaments to what once was.... Within each structure my heart feels the birth of a child and the death of an aging grandparent. I can celebrate birthdays in them and know marriages were consummated there, as well. From the whitewashed, smoke-laden stone walls, I smell the pungent and acidic odor of thousands of peat fires that kept many people from freezing to death in the night. I smell the tension of sad, overworked women and mothers who wait desperately for their husbands to return home with food to feed the young bairns. I listen to the echoes of family decisions bouncing off the walls as to whether or not they should stay and wait it out or pack-up their meager belongings and abandon their birthright for a ticket to America!
These emotions exhaust me down to my very core because I feel so much life surrounding these structures as if they were still occupied today! So many questions, too. Did they find time to appreciate the sweet beauty of the world that surrounded them? Were they working so long and hard just to stay alive? In fighting for what they needed, did they lose sight of all they had? I often wonder....
As modern day visitors of this incredible place called Ireland, manned with rental car, camera and sustenance to be found at the nearest restaurant or pub, we can luxuriate within unrestrained time and walk the paths, climb the mountains, fish the lakes and capture a more simple way of living with each picture and breath we take. We, as tourists, have been elevated to new heights as we ride along on the 'memory train' that was built and navigated by so many lost souls. May we always remember and appreciate all of their hard work....
