The Month of March ... Celebrating the Inner Irish in All of Us - Chapter 11
To whet your appetite and help you prepare to celebrate the upcoming MAJOR INTERNATIONAL HOLIDAY, St. Patrick's Day, I thought I would share a few photos and a wee bit of the story about a trip we made to Ireland. I will post a wee bit each day until St. Patty's day. Hope you will follow along.
I thought it might be a good idea to re-introduce you to the cast of characters in this story. The purpose of this trip was to return the ashes of my wife's mother, Mary, to her homestead in Drumshanbo, County Leitrim, Ireland.
Chris, my wife
Eric, her son, the surfer, aviation student at Western Michigan and NOW farm hand
Barbara, her sister
Ed, her father, the man who never took a bad photograph
Me, her husband
Wee Bit No. 11 - At this point, it may surprise you to know that this story has a main character. Despite my attempts to deliberately mislead you by the list of the characters above, they are not by order of importance, at least as far as this trip is concerned. The main character, if you have not already guessed, is of course, Ed.
Now I've known Chris, Bobbi (Barbara), Ed, Mary and Mary's father, Pat Lynch since 1959 when they moved to central Massachusetts a half mile from my house and Chris started the second grade in my class. We grew up together, out in the country, and dated through high school.
Ed's place in the home in those days, was in the living room in front of the TV, where he strategically guarded the front door in his orange naugahyde swivel rocker. In the blink of an eye, he could spin that rocker around at warp speed..."Your taking my daughter, WHERE?" He had a stare that could burn a hole right through me in those days. I had a lot of respect for Ed.
Ed was of German descent, but when Mary, his little Irish lassy, took him back to Ireland to visit the relatives back there in later years, he fell in love with the country. And the relatives, well, they accepted him and adopted him into the family as if he were a native born Irishman. Ed was now honorary Irish.
The Shannon River is the longest river in Ireland and divides the country into East and West, eventually emptying to the ocean in Limerick. It is approximately 240 miles long and is a major navigable waterway in Ireland. The Shannon River can be traced back to its source in the Cuilcagh Mountains in County Cavan.
The Shannon Pot, as it's known, is a 50 foot diameter pool located in an open field and is the source of this great river. How the "Pot" is able to supply such a major river without ever showing a drop in its own level has remained a mystery, but is probably due to a subterranian channel from farther upslope sources. It is accessible only on foot by hiking perhaps a half mile from the nearest paved road.
For a local, finding the "Pot" is probably quite simple, but for a foreign visitor unfamiliar with the local roads, it presents a daunting challenge. It's inconceivable to consider yourself Irish or even honorary Irish, if you have never gazed into the still water of the source of the Shannon. Ed, over the years had heard of the "Pot" and tried, unsuccessfully, a number of times to find it. This became an obsession for him with each trip when he returned to Ireland.
This particular morning, after following 
many incorrect roads, I was able to locate a tiny gravel parking area, from which a narrow footpath led to the source of the mighty Shannon. For Ed, this achievement was like finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, and I am forever grateful I was able to help him fulfill his dream.
Tomorrow, I will take you on a tour of the Arigna coal mine.
We stumbled across this beautiful waterfall trying to find the Shannon Pot.
In case you have missed previous chapters, links are below:
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Life is good when there are flowers to photograph!
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