It is raining in NWA this morning and the raindrops are accompanied by lightning and thunder. I’m pretty sure it is raining in Ireland, too, where now it is 11 a.m. instead of 5:00. They may not have the thunder and lightning, though. While I was there, the rain was sometimes hard but never stormy. Ireland has no hurricanes, tornadoes, or snakes. And very few flies or mosquitoes. The people don’t have screens on their windows, nor do they have air conditioners.
“How’s the weather on the Ring?” people ask each other. They are referring to the Ring of Kerry, a tourist’s route of 179 km. in Ireland’s Southwest. It is a circular route from Killarney to Kenmare, around the Iversleigh Peninsula, Killgorlin, the village of Sneem, Waterville, Cahersiveen, and Glenbeigh. Then, back to the starting point of Killarney. However, those names represent some breath-taking, beautiful scenery. The road is narrow and winding, up one steep, steep hill and down into a valley, up another hill, around a blind curve with a rocky cliff on one side and an abrupt drop to said valley on the other. There’s Ladies’ View, where Queen Victoria and her ladies-in-waiting stopped in 1861 to view the lakes. There’s Ross Castle and Moll’s Gap.
Gorse grows on the hillsides. It is rust-red now but turns yellow later. We pass a lovely area (aren’t all the places lovely?) called Black Valley. It gets dark sooner here than in other parts and this was the last place to get electricity. Hawthorne bushes and fuschia crowd the roadway. Rhododendrons are huge shrubs and, although their blooming season is past, the purple blossoms must be spectacular in June. The plant is so pervasive that the Irish consider it a pest and have to cut it back to keep it from taking over.
In the town of Sneem, I found a small shop that sold things made with Irish wool. (By the way, one of the impressive things about Ireland is that in all the shops, the souvenirs are made in Ireland.) The owner of the shop sat at the back, bent over a spool onto which he was winding wool. He wore a wool beret, was thin and dark. When he spoke, it was hard to understand his dialect. I supposed him to be Irish but no! He was from France and had been in Ireland for forty-five years.
Here in Sneem, the Atlantic pounds against the rocky shore and houses perch close. Only a rugged waterfront and a street separate the shops from the Ocean. It is here that Charlie Chaplin had a home. The house is for sale now. Other celebrities live or have lived or own land along the Ring of Kerry. We passed a neat, fenced area owned by Daniel Day Lewis.
On one of the mountain tops, a young man and woman, a burro, a dog, and some puppies had set up shop. The idea was that tourists would want to snap pictures and put a few Euros into his small kettle. Of course, I obliged.
Although the area is spectacular, in contrast are the bogs. From these, men cut peat which they sell or use for fuel. Only thing is, the bogs can be a place of danger and intrigue. Things and people disappear into the bogs, perhaps not to be discovered until centuries later.
Sheep proliferate on Ireland’s lush grasslands. Owners mark them with colors so it’s not unusual to see a sheep with a large amount of pink or another color on its wool. The color can be easily washed off. Our group’s leader, Charlie Foster, began each of our days with a devotional. He waited until everyone was on the bus including Bill, our driver. Then he read a devotional, prayed, and sometimes we sang a song. One of the devotions was of the identifying mark of a Christian. Just as the color identifies the sheep, love identifies the Christian and marks us as Christ’s own. And Christ’s love cannot be washed off.
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