Aran Islands! Land of ancient gods! A place where they still could flourish and be worshipped! Off the western coast of Ireland, three small islands covered in rock and fields float peacefully upon the Atlantic. I feel so lucky that we saw this mysterious land unpopulated by tourists. In the middle of December no one braves this rough terrain - no one, that is, except the natives - and Hawk and I. We practically had the place to ourselves. Everywhere we looked we saw miles and miles of green fields and rock walls - not a human being in sight. The cliffs were sublime. Looking over the endless Atlantic, I realized that the first land one would hit would be America.

A few small villages still exist there. The people speak mostly Gaelic and farm the rocky land. The rock walls built everywhere are evidence to the hard labor that has gone on for centuries. Farmers dug the large rocks out of their fields and piled them on top of each other in long rows. These walls are used to separate the fields.

All the villagers seemed surprised to see tourists during off-season, and were impressed with our tolerance of the cold and windy weather. Windy is actually an understatement - one of the villagers said they had not seen such a gusty day in years. In years! And here we were to witness it! We could not even rent bicycles on the first day we were there, as we would not have been able to pedal against such strong winds. I now understand why part of the Irish blessing is "may the wind be ever at your back." It is a force almost as strong as gravity! The next day, we fought it on rented bicycles with both forces against us - the wind in our faces and the hills getting higher and higher. (Notice the small waterfall being blown back up the cliff in this picture).

One of the most beautiful sights, to me, were the Celtic crosses in the old cemeteries.

We came upon an old abandoned church - still standing strong and complete. A glimpse inside let us know that it was once used for community gatherings. Old pews, a Celtic cross on the altar, and weathered floors - it was almost as if we could hear them singing their hymns and shuffling about in their seats.

It was truly a spiritual journey, tredding this sacred ground of the ancients. A huge, vibrant rainbow graced our sight, and I was able to find the end of it for the first time in my life.

What an escape - not only do the Aran Islands take you away from the problems of modern society - industry, pollution, crime - and expose you to natural beauty beyond belief, they also take you from all the comforts of modernity and expose you to the harshness of nature. It's a trip back to the beginning of time.

I finally understand what William Wordsworth meant by the power of reflection. Whenever my mind is in a state of chaos, with deadlines and hectic schedules overtaking my sanity, I close my eyes and see myself standing on the edge of that 300 foot cliff, overlooking the Atlantic, feeling the mist of the waves and the strength of the wind cleanse my spirit and restore my peace of mind.

© Trincoll Journal, 1995.