A MAY DAY TO REMEMBER

Friday of last week dawned with the promise of a fine day, a promise that was kept, and a day to remember, the first day of May, It was a day to be out in the great outdoors, but where to go? I headed first to Araglin to call to the cemetery where our little son James is buried, met a lady there and stopped to speak with her, it turned out that her father and I had worked together many years ago.

Then it was on to the foothills of the Knockmealdowns, there I heard that sound that always stirs the heart, a Cuckoo calling from a secluded glen, soon to be answered by another deep in the woods. Is there any bird about whom there is more sayings than the Cuckoo, one which I heard just recently is that if you count the number of cuckoos in the call it will tell you the number of years you have left to live, I was happy after hearing that Cuckoo in the woods.

Soon afterward I met a friend who is a great walker and who knows the name of every peak and valley in the Knockmealdowns, then far down below in the valley I heard the Angelus bell pealing out their cadence of joy. It was time to be on the move again, this time on the forestry track that leads to The Three Doons, the source of the Araglin River, On the way I met a couple of walkers with their dog, they knew the area very well and told me that they were from Ardfinnan. When you reach the end of the forest the whole country-side opens up before you, heather-covered hills surrounding the valley of the Araglin River which rises here in three waterfalls, known as The Three Doons. I found a place to sit down and eat my bread and cheese sandwiches, is there anything so good as to eat plain food in the open air, and as the poet said, to stop and stare.

And there was so much to stare at, sheep with their lambs grazing peacefully on a little patch of green near the river. The river meandering between the rocks off into the distance, the one thing above all other that impresses here is the silence, a deep, deep silence emphasised by the murmur of the river. There are so many glens and dales in this beautiful area to be explored, trails that lead deep in to the woods, tracks where only sheep and occasionally deer can be seen and of course, that little river on its merry way to join the Blackwater at a place called Ballydrown.

In the French Republican Calender the month of May was called Florea or the Time of the Flowers, the old Dutch name was BlouMaand or blooming time, the old Anglo-Saxons called the month Thrimilce, because the cows could be milked three times a day. Later in the evening I took a little stroll around the fields at Cregg and saw the most beautiful sunset, it was a day to remember, to treasure and to keep in the memory.

We recently had a French couple Florence and Xavier stay with us. We took them to the river at Cregg, they were enchanted at the peace and tranquillity to be found in this hallowed spot where the Glen stream flows in. I wandered off for a while on my own and met a couple who were canoeing on the river, my thanks to them for sharing their sandwiches with me. Days to remember.