Lake of Shadows

Today was a perfect day. It didn't start well. Lots of e-mails/texts/calls as I tried to set up meetings with friends. I also needed to schedule a facial and a four-course meal--both included in my spa package. And I wanted to go for a bike ride, and swim at the health center here at the hotel, and I brought letters to write and books to read... It cracks me up how a relaxing getaway can become stressful. First World Problem, right?

So I had my facial, which was the end of the trifecta: massage after Thesis Tuesday, yoga with Julie yesterday, and facial today. I feel like a new woman. Then I cycled for two hours along Lough Swilly (translation: Lake of Shadows). I took 34 photos, which I have edited down to 18. Here is where the Cranna River empties into Lough Swilly (hence the town of Buncrana).

A typical Donegal beach:

Did you know that Amazing Grace was written by John Newton after he almost went down in a ship in the Atlantic before finding safe harbour in Lough Swilly? He became a minister and a strident abolitionist and mentored one of his parishioners, William Wilberforce, who successfully lobbied to end the slave trade in the U.K.

I found plenty of grace on my trip. Note my tire marks.



I'm happy to say I took none of this for granted. I didn't get down on my knees and kiss the sand, but I felt deeply my good fortune at being in this place at this time.

When I was a kid, I used to ride horses on the beach. Probably the only thing that can make being on these beaches better.
The sights:

While Buncrana is, obviously, a beautiful place, it is one of many beautiful places in Donegal. It has nothing in the way of industry and people don't have much in the way of income. I find this makes communities more creative. Check out the Free Wee Library. There were a few of these along the trail, always with a bench nearby.

There were also posters educating people about the flora and fauna in this diverse ecosystem.

I should mention at this point I'm following the River Cranna inland from the coast. There are lots of gardens and waterfalls.

I am in Swan Park, left to the people of Buncrana by Harry Percival Swan. His house, Ardeelan, sits empty in the park next to the site of a mill that closed in the mid 1800s.

Inviting, yes?

There was a garden of native plants to support butterflies through their various stages of metamorphicizing (is that a word?). I love how this poster is called Airborne Ornaments.

I'm back to where the river re-enters Lough Swilly. This bridge leads to Ardeelan.

In the distance, you can see smoke stacks for what was once a Fruit of the Loom factory.

This chair was hewn out of a fallen oak tree. The mosaic was made by the community in honour of suicide victims.

So that was my bike ride. Then in to Derry for a late lunch with an old school friend, Cathy Arthur, headmistress of a primary school. There's nothing like catching up with old friends. Then back to Buncrana, where Julie picked me up and took me to Clonmany, where we met four other women to meditate and chant. They are devotees of Amma, an Indian woman who is similar to Mother Theresa. While it seemed odd to be in Donegal chanting songs in a foreign language about Hindu gods (Shiva, Devi, Radha), it is no odder for me than singing Protestant hymns from the 1800s in my church. The language is so archaic and stilted that I have a hard time understanding it. Even when I catch the drift, I often don't agree with the sentiment. I'm more of a spiritual but not religious type. The best part of being at the meditation was watching Julie sing. She takes such joy from singing these hymns and playing her drum, that I'm all for what Amma has created. Julie does important work with people who are struggling and anything that gives her energy and keeps her going is fine by me. They asked me to contribute a song so I sang one of my favourites from my UU hymnal:
My life goes on in endless song above earth's lamentation
I hear the real though far off hymn that hails a new creation
Through all the tumult and the strife I hear the music ringing
It sounds an echo in my soul, how can I keep from singing.

How indeed. I ended this very perfect day by getting a sandwich and crisps at a convenience store then going into a pub for a cider. Not just any pub but the Drift Inn, a former railway station that has the most incredible interior. I can only find a photo of the exterior online:

So that was my day. A day well spent.
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