Someone asked me a few weeks ago what living on the island was like. It took a while to come up with an answer better than, ‘I dunno, eh grand I suppose, fine like.’
Category: Inis Meáin
Inisbofin, and the view of Inis Meáin
…for it was in Bofin a fortnight ago that I saw my time on Inis Meáin with pure clarity.
Living the other language
I think of all of this Irish I have, and how I got it, and what I’ll do with it.
And how it came to mean so much to me.
Anois teacht an earraigh…
And winter forgotten, all over again.
Frosty night, Inis Meáin.
No movement on the island this night. Absolute stillness. Contagious calmness
The music.
…. At the miracle of sounds made that show us ourselves
The west village.
It’s to where doubters came and said, ‘I get it now, I get why you’re here.’
The boat.
From the boat, the unlikelihood of living on an offshore island is laid bare.
The sea, and me.
The spectrum of opinion on the sea runs from romance to respect
Brigid brings the spring
Brigid’s Day reflected our own lives; rushes were easy come by in west Roscommon, Brigid was headstrong rather than immaculate, she was protector of animals and we were the children or grandchildren of farmers.
To every thing, there is a season…
Summer was marvellous and though it’d be better if it was always summer here, winter will bring certain benefits
The kind of life I want to have.
What happens on Inis Meáin isn’t just seen but smelt and felt and heard.
Home, away, and attachments to place.
That contentment could be found by just being in a beloved place was news to me
Storm Barra
On Met Éireann’s maps, the offshore islands looked defenceless and wide open. Like ducks before an armada.
One morning’s walk.
I went for a walk this morning. Without my headphones.
Bliain ag fás; a year on Inis Meáin.
I’ve felt spring, smelled silence and sat faoi dhraíocht ag ceol na farraige
The best thing about Inis Meáin? That there’s nothing to do on Inis Meáin.
The island’s gift to the visitor is time and space to dream, think, notice and observe, to see the world a little differently.
At Swim-Four-Women; swimming from Inis Oírr to Inis Meáin in aid of RNLI
We’re swimming from Inis Oírr to Inis Meáin in aid of the RNLI and we’d really appreciate all the support going
With an ear to the ground and an eye on the sea…
I swear I felt spring, felt it somewhere in my soul. Felt it as one can only where life is lived at nature’s behest, with an ear to the ground and an eye to the sea.
The drochaimsir and my muse, the west Clare coast.
I was missing my muse, my inspiration. Yeats had Maude Gonne, it appears I have the west Clare coast.
doireann.ie 