I took a walk with Bernardine through Corkagh Park this afternoon.
We both needed to clear our heads and get back in touch with reality after the euphoria of the Oireachtas experience.
We strolled through an autumn landscape of golds, and reds, and, yellows, and orange: it isn't hard to see why Ireland got green and orange as its national colours.
Part of the park is dedicated to children as the Fairy Woods or Coill na Síóige. What a pleasure to see a critical part of our culture reborn as a magical delight for young and old alike (While we were there, we saw many small children being entranced but we also saw a family bringing their elderly relative for a little spiritual renewal). The emergence of these centers of inspiration mark an important break from the way our former colonial masters tried to distort our image of ourselves, the better to break resistance to their occupation. They are not about the leprechauns and banshees the British invented for us. They are about returning fantasy and innocence to hearts grown weary by the long struggle to redefine ourselves after the nightmare of colonialism. As Bobby Sands so eloquently stated it: "Our revenge will be the laughter of our children."
Bernardine lets the Worry Tree lighten her heart.
The Tricolour
Playlist:
Back Home in Derry
Christy Moore
King of the Fairies
Horslips
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