West Cork

Memento Mori

Fanlobbus

It’s Halloween – what better time to take a wander round an old graveyard! Fortunately, we’re well endowed with them in Ireland, in varying states of preservation and decay.

Old graveyard, near Dunmanway

Except for the wealthy, who could afford to erect tombs and decorate churches with effigies of themselves and carved wall plaques, most people who died in Ireland up to the 1700s lie in unmarked graves. However, in the 18th century the practice of erecting carved headstones become commonplace for those who could pay for it. Styles of headstone carving evolved over time. Local craftsmen used the symbols in vogue, interpreting them according to their own ideas and their level of skill. The result can best be described as folk art.

Bridget Sweeney Kilmallock

Bridget Sweeney’s grave in Kilmallock Co Limerick is memorialised with a great example of a nineteenth century carved headstone

One recurring theme is the passion, or crucifixion of Christ, and a headstone we saw recently in Kilmallock, Co Limerick, is an excellent example of the crucifixion and other symbols.

Bridget Sweeney Closer

Top: Not only a crucifixion image,  but various other symbols feature on the headstone, such as a chalice (eucharist) and a rooster (awakening or time). Below: close up of the two angels: left is Michael blowing his trumpet and bearing a set of scales (reflecting his role of weighing souls at the gates of heaven); right is another angel bearing a book (in which might be recorded a person’s good and bad deeds) and keys (to the gates of heaven?)

Denis Sheehan, Kilmallock

Another crucifixion headstone, also in Kilmallock: harder to make out, but full of interesting elements

You may have noticed the letters IHS on Bridget Sweeney’s grave. Ubiquitous on old gravestones, on its own, accompanied by a simple cross, or as part of a more elaborate decoration, IHS stood for the name of Jesus. For a full explanation, see this post from the always excellent Pilgrimage in Medieval Ireland.

Thomas Donahoe Clonfert

Another favourite symbol was a head with wings, usually representing the soul on its flight to heaven, but perhaps also an angel. 

Alice Bolster, Kilmallock

A particularly fetching angel/soul on the grave of Alice Bolster, Kilmallock

St Michael, blowing his trumpet to welcome that soul to heaven, was a favourite motif. We found one behind a bank of ivy in the old Aughadown graveyard near us, down by the Ilen River.

Aughadown

AughadownCan you make out Michael, blowing his trumpet? The enemies of all headstones are ivy and lichen and this one has been overtaken by both

Symbols of mortality decorate some of the earliest Irish headstone – skull and crossbones, hourglasses, books and bells, skeletons, even rotting corpses – all represent the finite nature of life on earth. Memento Mori literally means Remember, you must die. These images were supposed to encourage us, apparently, to lead better lives by reflecting both on the futility of relying on earthly delights and on the reward awaiting us in heaven. Mortality symbols generally date to the 1700s.

Cloondara, Co Longford, no inscription

Top: this slab is in the churchyard at Cloondara Co Longford and has no inscription. The two images below it are from a grave in Castlelands, near Kinsale. These two images are courtesy of our friend Amanda Clarke: she was told by a man doing maintenance work that this was the grave of Anne Bonny the pirate – hence the skull and crossbones!

Sun, moon and star images represent the glories of creation and we’ve seen many instances of sunbursts, often enclosing the IHS lettering. Here’s a nice example, below, from Kilmallock, which also has winged heads and beautiful lettering.

William Jones Kilmallock

Lettering styles varied widely, as did the carver’s ability to spell and to ensure he had left himself enough room. Anyone wanting to invent new fonts (yes, that’s a thing) could well study old headstones and admire the incredible variety of lettering. Carving some of the more elaborately rounded scripts must have been a job for only the most highly skilled.

Dan Linnehan, Cullen, Co Cork

We often see instances where letters and words have to be added above or below the line, where the carver ran out of room

The Lamb of God is another common image – although it can be hard to recognise a lamb in the often lumpen carving at the top of a headstone.

Headstone, Cullen

At an old graveyard in Cullen, Co Cork, there are several stones that appear to be in a local style with a head on either side of the top of the stone

We can’t resist old graveyards – we seldom pass an opportunity for a stroll and an explore. Sometimes we find interesting headstones, sometimes we just soak in the atmosphere, sometimes we worry about the neglect that allows them to slowly disappear into a jumble of brambles and nettles.

Four Children gravestone, Bandon

It’s hard to make out what’s on this old headstone in the churchyard at St Peter’s C of I church in Bandon. The words include a reference to ‘his four children’ so I am tempted to think these four heads representing those little souls.

Here’s some good new – there is an Irish organisation, Historic Graves, that is doing outstanding work in saving our historic graveyards from that fate. In their own words:

The Historic Graves project is a community focused grassroots heritage project. Local community groups are trained in low-cost high-tech field survey of historic graveyards and recording of their own oral histories. They build a multi-media online record of the historic graves in their own areas and unite to form a national resource.

Lissagriffin

Kilmoe churchyard, in LIssagriffin on the MIzen Peninsula, has benefited from a Historic Graves survey

I used information from the Historic Graves survey in my posts about the Stouke Graveyard (Priests and Poets Part 1 and Part 2) and I hope to learn more about their methods and objectives in the future.

Another Historic Graves project was Castlelands, near Kinsale. These photographs are by Amanda Clarke, used with thanks

One thing we have seen is that once a graveyard has been surveyed it’s important to keep it well maintained. The Cloyne graveyard was surveyed in 2013 and many fine old headstones were found and recorded. We visited in May 2014 and loved our walk through the flower-strewn pathways and the newly-revealed headstones. However, earlier this month when we dropped in it had started to resemble a jungle again. 

Cloyne Graveyard

I will leave you with a couple of my personal favourites from graveyard visits – not elaborate, not particularly old, but saying so much. The first is from Castlehaven graveyard in West Cork, the second from Kilbarry, near Dunmanway.

Castlehaven Bridge McCarthy

Crowley Castle St

The Murdering Glen

On the walk

The long valleys that run eastwards from Bantry are filled with antiquities – Discovery Map 85 is dotted with red circles of places we want to tramp around. We have been particularly intrigued by the ‘Murdering Glen’, labelled on the map: can you see it?.

Murdering Glen Map

Today we got a chance for a thorough exploration of the Murdering Glen, on the invitation of our friend Bridget, who lives there and is a keen explorer herself. After a wonderful lunch supplied mainly from her garden we set out up the road towards the Glen, with Bridget assuring us that the place appeared peaceful enough these days and not to worry.

Murdering Glen

The Glen is indeed dramatic, with steep sides and an enormous overhanging rock – just the kind of place for a brigand to lurk. In this case the brigand (and his mother) were locals, by the name of O’Kelly, who would lay in wait for travellers and murder them for their gold, before throwing them into the Butcher’s Pool.

Murder Rock

In  the 1930s schoolchildren in every National School in Ireland were asked to write down the stories they heard at home and these were recorded, in their own writing, by the National Folklore Commission. Here is the outline of the project, as presented on Duchas, the website that now stores that collection:

For the duration of the project, more than 50,000 schoolchildren from 5,000 schools in the 26 counties of the Irish Free State were enlisted to collect folklore in their home districts. This included oral history, topographical information, folktales and legends, riddles and proverbs, games and pastimes, trades and crafts. The children recorded this material from their parents, grandparents, and neighbours. The scheme resulted in the creation of over half a million manuscript pages, generally referred to as ‘Bailiúchán na Scol’ or ‘The Schools’ Collection’.

To my delight, I was able to find the original story in the collection – and here it is, in the handwriting of schoolboy Michael Keohane from Dromore National School. I think you will agree he has done a magnificent job of telling the local legend.

murdering-glen

murdering-glen-page-2Before we left the murderous spot Bridget led us up to the mass rock, on a ledge on the side of the valley. It was a block of sparkling quartz, with holes to collect water, into which you can dip your warts in hopes of a cure.

Bridget shows us the mass rock

We  walked then towards the Trawlebane Bridge, where Robert and I had joined the walk two years ago to honour and remember Chief O’Neil. Robert’s post, The Chief, will take you back to that day and show you the spot where, before we started the walk, participants decided to put on an impromptu display of Crossroads Dancing, just as local people would have done on a fine summer evening in the old days.

Trawlebane Crossroads

There was more, much more to see, just in the immediate neighbourhood. We spent time in a Cillín first, in the middle of a field, with a magnificent blackthorn tree to mark the lonely spot where unbaptised children were traditionally buried. Read more about this practice in my post Unknown Souls.

Cillín

Blackthorn TreeA little five-stone circle was next – a classic of its kind, with four stones set on edge and a recumbent stone marking the axial alignment. (See more examples of them in my post Family-Friendly Archaeology). Besides three sites in nearby Kerry, these small stone circles are only found in Cork. They mirror exactly the larger multiple-stone circles, just with fewer stones – an efficient variation requiring fewer resources to erect but accomplishing the same outcomes.

Five stone circle

Unfortunately, this five-stone circle has been filled with field debris, creating the appearance of a mound

We also passed numerous ringforts and several standing stones. Looming over us as we walked was Dromore hill, on top of which was erected, in the Marian Year of 1954, an enormous cross, now rather improbably lit up at night. The cross is clearly visible from the stone circle and the standing stones, presenting opportunities to ponder on the juxtaposition of what is considered sacred in its own day, and what communities will expend precious resources to erect at different times over millennia.

Cross above circle

CrossOn  our trip to Sligo recently Robert and I were sensitised to the phenomenon of monuments seemingly echoing or imitating the topography behind them – see his post Discovering Carrowmore for more about this. I was struck by one of the standing stones – the top did seem to echo the hill behind it. Coincidence?

Standing Stone shape

October in West Cork can feature some of the best weather and walking conditions of the year. Today did not disappoint, with blue skies and crisp air.

Tree

Thank you, Bridget, and our other exploring companions Amanda and Peter, for a marvellous day of Murder, Mythology and Megaliths.

At the rabbit ears

Winter Storage

approaching the cradle

As you all know, boys can’t resist toys, especially radio-controlled ones. Sorry if this sounds sexist – I’m quite sure that there are many girls out there who like them as well. But, when it comes to Boys’ Toys nothing can quite compare to the piece of equipment which we have just down the boreen in Rossbrin Cove…

boatyard ltd

Up here in Nead an Iolair we are well placed to keep an eye on all the nautical coming and going in and out of the Cove through the spring and summer, and extending into the autumn. There is considerable activity because, at the end of the Cove, is Jimmy Murphy’s boatyard – and that’s where many of the boats that ply the waters of Roaringwater Bay during the sailing season are ‘laid up’ during the winter months. Just occasionally we have seen a single boat riding out – and surviving – the January gales afloat, but that’s not to be recommended. Far better to be safe and sound out of the water – and out of harm’s way – in the security of the yard.

from the terrace

Rossbrin Cove – the viewpoint from the terrace of Nead an Iolair: the main October activity is bringing the boats into the yard for winter storage

So, what’s the boys toy? Well, if you are technically minded, the full description is a Wise 16T immersible slipway boat hoist. This may or may not fill you full of excitement with the heart beating a little faster than usual but, let me assure you, it’s a fine sight to behold when it’s doing its stuff. I had the opportunity to behold it yesterday when I looked down from our terrace and noticed a sailing boat (with sails furled) making its way through to the far end of the Cove, where the boatyard is situated. That’s a sure sign that the Wise 16T is coming out and is on its way down to the slipway. Not wanting to miss a good photo opportunity (it was a beautiful October day), down I went as well!

Header picture – the Shaughraun approaching its winter quarters. Above left – expert navigation: the Shaughraun entering the boat hoist; above right – the slings are tightened to secure the boat ready for its journey up the slipway

I suppose what makes the Wise 16T such a compelling draw for this boy is the sheer size of it, and the fact that the whole contraption is controlled from a little box hanging around Jim Murphy’s neck: he doesn’t even have to be on board to operate it! For me it somehow brings back memories of travelling by steam train in the days of my distant youth when I always made sure I got to see the driver and the fireman on the footplate handling the huge monster that was the hissing, thundering locomotive (I did achieve my dream of travelling on the footplate once, but that’s a completely different story). Rather, though, the Wise 16T is probably more akin to my youthful aspiration to be in charge of a radio controlled model plane and to be able to make it loop, dive and spin spectacularly, thereby thrilling the admiring crowds. Sadly, this aspiration was never fulfilled. All the more reason, therefore, to hurry down to the water and catch a glimpse of the Wise 16T in action.

through the branches

The boat hoist looks a bit like a giant insect, albeit having only four legs. At the end of each leg is a wheel, and each wheel is turned – and steered – by hydraulics powered by a diesel engine mounted high up in the frame of the hoist: this is to keep the engine above water while the main body of the lift is immersed as it negotiates the slipway. Hydraulics also operate the slings which secure the boat once it has been expertly navigated into the lift. All this can be done by the remote radio controller, although there is also a driving position on the structure itself – again, mounted high enough to be out of the water.

out the water

Top left – the driving wheels (it’s all done by hydraulics); top right – the diesel engine casing can be seen mounted high up in the frame to avoid immersion. Above – Jim steers the machine up the slipway using a radio controller

I was able to closely observe the whole operation: the boat (the Shaughraun) approaching the immersed lift, being secured by the slings, then raised clear of the water as the Wise 16T climbed up the slipway; the crew were still on board. The boatyard is a little way from the slip and along one of Rossbrin’s narrow lanes, so I was able to see how Jim – walking in front – expertly drives the whole ensemble using his little remote box. There was quite a lot of activity on the water on the day, with small boats being pulled out and mounted on trailers, and soon there was a bit of a traffic snarl-up on the lane with the small boats following along behind the big ‘insect’ going – understandably – at a slow pace as it made its way round bends and past overhanging trees and bushes.

traffic jam

in the boatyard

Top – West Cork traffic jam! Below – safely entering the gates of Rossbrin Boatyard, and ready to settle in for the winter

However much of a hold-up it might have been to the traffic following behind (and it was barely a couple of minutes) the delay must have been more than outweighed by the sheer spectacle of the machine in action. I was delighted to have seen the Wise 16T from a close vantage point. Many thanks to Jimmy Murphy, Rossbrin Boatyard Ltd and the crew of the Shaughraun for allowing me to share the experience.

remote controller

Rossbrin Boatyard ‘Skipper’ Jimmy Murphy in full control!

Late Bloomers: Invasive, Naturalised and Native

Creeper on white cottage wall

This is my last wildflower post! You must be getting tired of my wildflower obsession by now. So, no more after this one. (Well, at least not in 2016.) The thing is, I had assumed that there was nothing left to see at this point. We are in October after all, and autumn is coming early this year after a cool and misty summer. But a walk today put flight to that notion.

Bee on Ivy Flower

Bracken undergrowthThe ivy flowers are alive with bees right now (above) and the bracken is putting on its winter coat

The predominant colour of the countryside is changing now as the brackens take on their winter amber-brown. The ivy is in full flower. Stand near a patch and you will be instantly aware of the hum. Our little black Irish bees are gathering while they still can and depend on this late flowering and ubiquitous plant for the last remaining nectar. Ivy honey is darker in colour and can smell a little rank, but it has a great reputation as a soothing cure for coughs and colds (especially if mixed with a little whiskey).

Bee on Ivy 2

Red Admiral on IvyThe bees and the Red Admiral Butterflies depend on this late flowering ivy

The trees haven’t quite started to turn yet, but brambles and creepers are in brilliant autumn reds. On our walk today this white cottage wall with its scarlet creeper caught my eye.

Creeper on cottage wall

A couple of surprises awaited us today. The first one was to come across a stand of Indian Balsam. This alas, is an invasive species, introduced as far back at 200 years ago from the Himalayas. The distribution map at the Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland does not show it in West Cork, but I guess I can now say it’s here. In fact, I submitted a report to Invasive Species Ireland – anyone can do this via their Alien Watch Program. Although it is certainly beautiful, it’s a divil – read all about its negative impacts on the Invasive Species Ireland website. Among its other attributes, it has a explosive seedpod that can throw seed up to six metres!

Indian Balsam

Indian Balsam – Invasive Species Ireland lists it with Rhododendron, Japanese Knotweed and Giant Hogweed as the most damaging invasive species

So  what’s the difference between non-native plants that are labelled invasive versus this that are called simply naturalised? Although it can be a matter of debate and perception, in the main we use the term invasive for those non-native plants that spread to such a degree as to exclude native species from the habitat they favour, or cause damage to the environment or the economy. Happily, the only invasive species we encountered on our walk was the Indian Balsam. However, we did come across lots of non-native, naturalised flowers too.

Greater Periwinkle

The Greater Periwinkle – seen a few days ago on The Mizen

The first one (actually seen a few days ago) is this beautiful Greater Periwinkle. It’s not a native plant but has been here a long time. It’s supposed to have great medicinal properties, especially as a laxative and, in an ointment it’s good for, er, piles. According to Zoe Devlin’s Wildflowers of Ireland (my go-to guide) The 17th century herbalist, Nicholas Culpeper wrote ‘that the leaves eaten by man and wife together, cause love between them. Ooh – think I might head back to where I saw it…

Ivy-leaved Toadflax

Ivy-leaved Toadflax

Another non-native species is the Ivy-Leaved Toadflax – not an attractive name for a very pretty little creeper found commonly on rock walls. During the 1600s, wealthy Brits started to import Italian marble into England in the form of building material and statuary. The Toadflax came along for the ride and is now so completely naturalised that few people realise it’s not a native plant. They look wonderful on rock walls but it’s not usually necessary to plant them yourself. According to one source I read, seeds, complete with a starter-pack of organic growing medium, are usually delivered by birds.

Pink Sorrel

Pink Sorrel

The final non-native flower we saw today was the pink sorrel. I thought at first it was Herb Robert, which is a native plant that grows everywhere and is still blooming, but closer examination revealed  a deeper pink, a more massed growth pattern and very different foliage. It’s a garden escape, now naturalised across the south and south east of Ireland.

Fuchsia on bare branches

Actually, I suppose I also have to add the fuchsia to the naturalised non-native list, even though we think of it as the quintessential West Cork flowering shrub. It’s still hanging in there, even though most of the leaves have dropped already.

Creeping Buttercup

Tormentil

The native plants still bravely blooming to delight us tended to be tiny, but bright enough among the grasses, brambles and bracken to immediately catch the eye. We saw Herb Robert, Prickly Sowthistle, Tormentil and patches of what might be Sea Radish (or perhaps not). 

Prickly Sowthistle

Prickly Sowthistle

Herb Robert is such a hardy little flower – it seems to peep out and last longer than almost everything else in the hedgerows. Birds love the seeds of the Prickly Sowthistle – it has guaranteed its survival by appealing to them and providing food when other sources are fading.

Herb Robert

Sea Radish

Herb Robert (top) and possibly Sea Radish

As  a member of the cabbage family, the leaves of the Sea Radish are edible, if a little peppery. Interestingly, it normally finishes flowering in July, so the ones we found today must be in a particularly sheltered spot. But this also raises the possibility that this is a different plant. Can anyone help identify it?

Tormentil Patch

And finally the strangely named Tormentil – it sounds like it may cause pain but in fact it’s the opposite. There are all kinds of medicinal uses for this little flower and its parts, some of which relieve the ‘torment’ of pain. It also, according to this website,  imparts nourishment and support to the bowels and the fresh root, bruised, and applied to the throat and jaws was held to heal the King’s Evil. You heard it here first!

Ballycummisk Coppermine and Gabrial

Our walk today, along one of the Fastnet Trails, took us past the old Ballycummisk mine site and gave us distant views of Mount Gabriel

The Golden Hour at Bantry House

Urns

You know that amazing quality of light just after sunrise and before sunset?  Well, photographers call it the Golden Hour (or Magic Hour), when the light takes on particular hues and becomes softer and more diffuse. There are scientific explanations, of course, but for most of us, we just know it when we see it.

Long Shadow

The low sun produces a golden glow and anything lit by it takes on those same reddish and amber hues. The harsh midday sun, which results in glaring highlights and deep shadows, is replaced by  gentler and longer shadows. Everything looks warmer, more romantic.

Roses

The perfect place to see this in West Cork is Bantry House. Because it faces due west, it is bathed in the low evening light. The construction materials, stone and brick, are warm-toned to begin with, but in the twilight hour they take on a mellow blush that is particularly entrancing. The sunsets over Bantry Bay, needless to say, are spectacular.

Ready for Zorro

Waiting for Zorro

We  had the perfect opportunity to observe this on several occasions. We attended a performance of Zorro on the lawn in August, and we usually take in several of the concerts at the Masters of Tradition Festival each year.

Back of the House

This photograph was taken during an interval at a Masters of Tradition Concert: the Library, at the back of the house, is the concert hall

Bantry House dates from the 18th century. The gardens were laid out in the second half of the 19th century in the formal continental style, with parterres, stepped lawns and avenues of statuary. The Second Earl was a great traveller and came back from his grand tour with ideas and artefacts to make the best use of the elevated site.

Up the steps

Rear Garden and StableIt  was he who added the stable yards with the cupolas, and laid out the gardens, including the hundred steps. All of this was somewhat at variance with the prevailing fashions in garden design at the time, which favoured more naturalistic settings with sweeping lawns dotted with groves of trees. However, it suited the restricted site and its formality has stood the test of time.

Statuesque

Restored Stable BlockA visit to the gardens at Bantry House is a wonderful experience. It’s open from March to October but the gates close at 5, so if you want to experience the Golden Hour, you’ll have to attend an evening event. Fortunately, these are abundant in the summer, as it’s a favourite venue for festivals and concerts.

Palms and HouseDuring the break, stroll about and just, well, bask. 

Trees and Flowers

Canons

And don’t forget to admire the sunset itself.

Sunset over the Bay

‘Auf der Walz’ – The Journeymen

on the summit

I am always happy to find longstanding customs and traditions still going strong, especially when they are as relevant today as they have been over countless generations. This summer we chanced upon two strangers from Germany who passed through Ballydehob. They were journeymen blacksmiths: lads who had completed their apprenticeships at home and were now ‘Auf der Walz’ (on the road) – gaining experience in the wider world.

inese-journeymen

Here are the two Journeymen who travelled the west of Ireland’captured’ by photographer Inese MJ – she came across them in her local supermarket! I am very grateful to Inese for allowing me to use her excellent photograph which comes from her own blog, here.

The tradition of the Journeyman Brotherhood is centuries old, originating in the Craftsmen Guilds of Europe during the Middle Ages and it is still practiced. In the past every young craftsperson who aspired to be a Master was, following his apprenticeship, required to leave home and not return for three years and a day. They had to stay at least 50 km away, but the journeys of the more adventurous candidates involved crossing oceans and continents. Simon and Benjamin – seen in the top picture after an exploratory climb to the summit of Hungry Hill on the Beara Peninsula – are from Munich and Frankfurt. They are wearing the uniform of their trade, known as the Kluft: this is how they are required to dress during their travels. The number of buttons on their waistcoats show the number of hours in a day they expect to work – in this case eight. When they leave home they have only a token sum of money each, and they must return with the same sum, no more. The purpose of the journey is not to seek their fortune, but to improve their knowledge and skills and give them a rich life experience, preparing them for becoming masters of their craft. It is a prerequisite that Journeymen cannot set out unless they are unmarried, childless and debt-free.

Left – a typical Charlottenburger used to carry the Journeyman’s possessions. Right – group of three in Germany looking for their preferred mode of transport

Other traditions which have to be observed by the true Journeymen include carrying only the most basic possessions with them: clothes to work in and the tools of their trade. These are wrapped in a small blanket, 80 cm square, known as a Charlottenburger. They also often carry a crooked walking stick, called a Stenz, which they have made themselves. Mobile phones are not allowed! Notably, Journeymen usually have gold bracelets and earrings: these may be pawned or sold, but only in cases of dire emergency… I learned that the earring tradition refers back to a time when each apprentice had a nail hammered through his earlobe to mark that he had reached the stage of his apprenticeship which allowed him to go out into the world and remain a stranger until he had completed his journey. Some sources suggest that the term Journeyman comes from the French Journée, meaning ‘journey’ – but this is not correct. Journée means ‘day’ in modern French, but its medieval root is the latin diurnata, which in fact means ‘a day’s work’ or ‘a day’s travel’.

Journeymen surrounded by the tools of their trade in the forge at Lowertown

Simon and Benjamin were fortunate that in Ballydehob they bumped into our neighbour Dietrich: although he and Hildegard have lived here for much of their working lives they were brought up in Germany and were aware of the Journeyman tradition. They immediately found a project for the two young blacksmiths: constructing a new gate for their entrance. John Joe Bowen of the local forge at Lowertown was very helpful in allowing a space in his workshops for the boys to set to work.

blank canvas

The process. Top – blank canvas: laying the full-size design out on the workshop floor. Above – learning from real life: how to fabricate a metal foxglove

We followed reports of the gate-making process with great interest, but were not allowed to see the completed design until the ‘official unveiling’. Dietrich and Hildegard recorded the various stages and have most kindly allowed me to use their photographs of the construction process (and the hike up Hungry Hill) reproduced here.

hammering

making the heron

From design to reality. Top left – Hildegard supervising the assembly and – top right – her design concept drawings. Above – a metal heron takes shape

The gate is a masterpiece. Made in West Cork, it reflects the environment of the place. It’s elegant, and unique. Although it appears complex, it is very understated: I think Dietrich and Hildegard have perfectly summed up the zeitgeist of our own time here in our small townland. Its inspiration is in nature, yet it is a technologically up-to-date piece of fine engineering.

piecing it together

on the floor

sanding the gate

dietrich, journeymen and gate

The construction process, and Dietrich and ‘The Boys’

We were privileged to be at the ‘launch party’. I have never been to a formal gate opening before! Dietrich cut the ribbon and then revealed the finished product to our eager eyes. This work must surely have been the highlight of the travels of these Journeyman from afar: they learned so much about observation and the translation of ideas into practical form.

the gate

Benjamin and Simon were not at the ‘launch’; they were already far away, continuing with their travels and their education. But they must carry with them good memories of the West of Ireland. Good luck to them both!

on hungry hill

Experiencing beautiful West Cork – the Beara Peninsula, summer 2016