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• GOLDEN AGE MYTHOLOGY WINDOWS

Places that he mostly didn't even have names for but that he could conjure up as though they were right there in the same room.

As if their locations are to be found in between the cracks, or floating above the grey Atlantic. The stories, those glowing embers of words, were about places that were known to hide away, sometimes from all view. "The stories he shared were fleeting, unbidden they came and went as quickly as the bright, defiant end sparks of a fire, well on its way to going out. It is, as always, up to those who listen to do with them what they will. The words, when they spill quietly out of the mouth of the one who has been entrusted with them, dance in the space, at one with the flames of the fire. They fill the room with a sense of ease, a sense of all being as it should be.

GOLDEN AGE MYTHOLOGY WINDOWS

They sit by the fire in the hearth they draw the chairs in close they shut all the windows so the old lore doesn't fall on the wrong ears. Good seanchaidhthe - storytellers - never really tell you anything, though. He was a storyteller, and his most affecting tales, the ones he gave me that have shaped his life, where about place, about how we relate to it, to ourselves, and to one another. "My grandfather was born in the same week as the Irish border. Reflecting again on the "thin places" to be found in the north of Ireland (and elsewhere), she writes: Following on from yesterday's post, here's one more passage from Thin Places by Kerri ní Dochartaigh, a book about myth, land, language, trauma (both personal and collective) and its healing, and a deep meditation on the nature of borders, physical and internal, seen and unseen.