After the wonderful McAteer reunion, we spent our remaining days in No. Ireland discovering some of the most beautiful places. Among the things we wanted to do was to hike — at least once– in the Mourne Mountains, but we didn’t have a clue where to start.
When the owner of the cottage heard our plight, his twenty-something daughter (who RUNS in the mountains) offered to be our guide to discover Slieve Martin in Rostrevor Forest. (Dave would have approved of our guide.)
As we climbed past Fiddler’s Green, where music festivals are held, it began to rain–of course! A day without rain in Ireland would be a miracle. But when the sun does come out, you realize that it’s worth a little rain to get the most amazing rainbows and the greenest of green landscapes.
As we reached the Cloughmore Stone, the sun came out. (Our “angels” were once again watching out for us!) It was a beautiful view of Carlingford Lough with the Republic of Ireland on the far shore. But the most beautiful part of this spot was the mountainside of different shades of violet heather. It was absolutely spectacular and soooo Irish!! There also was the amusing tale of how the rock arrived at this spot; the giant, Finn McCool, tossed the rock at his enemies and this is where is landed.
It was here in fields of heather and fragrant wildflowers of fireweed and milkweed that I sprinkled Dave’s ashes near a smaller rock off the path; a spot worthy of Dave.
We continued climbing amongst oak, ash, cypress, douglas fir, and hemlocks. In the open fields, the subtle heather was everywhere creating beautiful splashes of violet.
We climbed and rested and climbed and rested some more until we reached the top. The winds buffeted us every which way, but the climb was definitely worth the view before us…a patchwork of little Irish towns and rolling hills. At the peak is where Dave’s ashes were swept from my hand by the wind. They literally took flight in every direction.
As we headed down the mountain, we were mesmerized by the brilliant green that surrounded us. There were immense beds of clover and ferns. Even some the tree trunks were covered in green moss. With these surroundings, I half-expected a leprechaun to jump out at us. It was a surreal descent.
The winds of Ireland may have taken Dave’s ashes wherever it wanted, but no matter where they landed, I guarantee it was a beautiful place
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