Walking On the Rine....Ireland, Day Two

It's Sunday in Florida, dull and gray and ominous. Hurricane Isaac is lurking out there, making everyone skittish. There are places I'd rather be at this moment. An early walk along the Rine for instance. That's a "church" I'd like to attend regularly! One foot in front of the other, the vast dome of sky above, no sounds but the wheeling of gulls, the buzz of bees, the occasional lowing of cattle [watch out for the cow pies!] the soundless bobbing of sailboats far out on the water........

Given the restorative powers of pints of Guinness and a good night's sleep, the cyclists were good as new the day after the "Tour," so off we went to walk on the Rine.

 I shouldn't even be telling you about it as it is the best kept secret in Ballyvaughan, part of the pleasure of walking there being that you often have it almost entirely to yourself! But I'd hate for you to go to north Clare and not know about it!  It's a little peninsula a few miles west from the village, that runs parallel to the shore. At high tide there's only a tiny bit of it visible, but at low tide you can walk all the way out to the end. Access is by climbing over a nondescript gate on the road to Black Head, easily missed, and walking down this little lane to the shore. 

   On your left is the bay, with  the Atlantic beyond, 

and on your right,

 more water between you and the coast.

I kept falling behind the main gaggle, who were busy anyway with cycling postmortems, because I was busy being a "Yank," with my camera!

 We passed a few cows, placidly chewing, completely unconcerned by our presence. The Blister once had a particularly interesting outing to the Rine with a niece of hers who was studying zoology and had enlisted the Blister's help to collect seal poop for some research she was doing! We didn't collect any seal poop and, unfortunately, we didn't see any seals. But there were rocks and cows and birds and clouds and all kinds of beautiful wild flowers. Nothing large and showy, but a profusion of exquisite tiny ones.

Utter contentment.

The Rine feeds a hunger of the soul, but the stomach is unimpressed with flowers and clouds and rocks, so, with the tide coming in, and bellies growling, we headed back to the house.

  

And now the sun's come out in Florida and Isaac seems like an improbable nightmare.

Miss Oriss has sold her father's house as she has no interest in living here, being a cold weather girl. She  hands over the keys at month's end. I never realized how much work one person's death [may the Prince rest in peace] made for those left behind! Even though everything was organized and pristine, sorting out where everything goes, and to whom, has been a mammoth task. So....back to the mines! 

 But in my head today, I'll be walking on the Rine.