Time to venture out, and to one of my favorite spots. Since the road to Torc Waterfall is especially windy, BW and I switch positions—so I avoid car sickness.
Both Kat and I suffer from it, so she’s behind the wheel, and I’m front seat passenger.
It’s a gorgeous drive. Some rain, some sun as we wind along with Magillicuddy Reeks rising and spreading, the land below vivid green, dotted with sheep—and goats.
The hills go rockier and rougher for a wonderfully wild view, and at a view—Ladies View—we pull off for a look.
What a look, there’s miles and miles of green and rises, the spread of steel blue water below clumped with green knuckles of tiny islands. It’s all windswept, managing to be dramatic and pastoral at once.
What catches me is a huge old tree with big, curved branches spreading low, dipping over the ground and the rocks it grows out of. Or the rocks grow out of it, that’s the beauty.
I know immediately this will find its way into the next trilogy I’m mulling. We take pictures as the boy sleeps in the car with Jason and Kat taking turns sitting with him.
Back on the road and we pass another spot that grabbed me years back and became The Valley Of Silence in my Circle Trilogy. That wide, deep dive of land, the spears and tables of rock inside it, the majesty and grumbling desolation of it still grabs.
And on we go. The road narrows, narrows until it’s as skinny and sinuous as a snake. In and out of tunnels carved into the rocky cliffs—and the drop on my side is pretty forbidding.
I’m amazed how Kat manages it, skimming the low rock walls on the right, slipping by with a breath between the cars, coaches, lorries coming on the left.
We agree it’s like Mario Cart.
There’s heather and gorse pushing out of rocky hillsides, and tall, tall, thin pines thickening into forests.
When we get to Torc inside Killarney State Park, the lot’s packed.
The stalwart Kat weaves through, circles around, creeps and maneuvers, and we find a spot where someone handily just left.
Time for rain gear as it’s drizzling a bit.
Inside the magic of the forest where the faeries live, the light’s a quiet, luminous green. Those tall, wind-sculpted trees are coated with moss, and the whiskey-colored river runs fast.
Here, Griffin decides Nana should carry him, so I haul the boy while he laughs, babbles, points. We discuss the faeries on the way through and to the falls until my arm gives out, and I do a pass off.
The waterfall rushes down the rock cliff, full of sound and hurry as it spills white into the river. Little falls leap along and create small pools where I’m sure the faeries swim.
The boy is thrilled, can’t say enough about the water, the sound, the river. He must share his thoughts with Nana whose arm’s recovered enough to hold him again.
Note: I do no upper body lifting other than Griffin these couple weeks!
It’s a beautiful spot, well worth the snaking drive.
Back through the forest where a tree reclines over the river. Griffin walks, delighted to do so, holding Mama’s hands.
We go through a tunnel, watch a few jaunty carts with their pretty horses, say hello to a big friendly dog.
Into the car to drive back to Kenmare for a late lunch. We’re behind a little white car packed with people for a bit—a car that started out driving on the wrong side, made its shaky way back to the left. We’re concerned about them as the driver’s obviously new at this, and likely terrified.
When we turn off, I hope they get where they’re going without incident.
There’s a street fair in Kenmare—and apparently it’s also Donut Truck Day. We wander by the white canopied stalls. I buy two very nice wooden spoons. I can’t resist a good wooden spoon.
Lunch time where the boy goes starry-eyed over our waitress. She’s sweet with him as he flirts—and he offers her his prize squid or octopus—we’re not altogether sure. When he offers her the second squid, I tell her I think they’re engaged now.
He eats heartily, as do we all, and pauses once when he spots his current love way down the other side of the restaurant.
He wants to walk off the meal, so I’m happy to walk him around the place, outside, back, and to a table of teenage girls having a lively time of it. They give a communal AWWW!
He talks and flirts and charms, but his heart is taken by our waitress.
After lunch we walk the short distance to a stone dance. It’s every kind of wonderful, with two faerie trees for hanging wishes.
The place makes my skin hum—and Griffin is an instant fan.
Home again. A nap for the boy. I catch up on emails, do a little work.
I think to take a walk as the evening’s pretty gorgeous. A light drizzle, but that’s no problem, not when the air’s so fresh, the flowers so pretty.
I don’t get a quarter mile before the drizzle turns to actual rain.
So back I go.
More play time with a happy boy who’s so easily amused and entertained. Mama feeds him, Nana walks him.
I show his parents how you can hold one of his hands, reach your other out in front of him. He’ll take several steps forward.
Another pretty morning. BW joins me for the last thirty minutes of cardio, and a ten minute core session. Good for him!
Some packing up to do today, maybe some laundry. And maybe I’ll get that walk in before we head to Mayo tomorrow.
In today’s #randomkatness: Be Ware
Bonus Griffin photo: