Friday, September 23, 2005

Time to leave Owl Island

Well hereI was , at the end of my journey to Owl Island. I had asked Enchanteur if I might travel to this rocky outcrop of an isle situated off the coast of Ireland, I had heard of it from Gail I think (I may be wrong , there are so many travellers I have met along the way, sometimes they all blur into one, except Faucon... I do know the difference girls.

I was only thinking today that I never have been much of a dreamer, as in dreams when one is sleeping, but since I have been on this journey I am constantly aware when I wake in the mornings from a deep sleep, a good sleep that I am remembering dreams that are quite real, dreams nothing to do with my travels with my fellow companions but dreams of my life and that of my children, something I have not experienced before.... What I must say is that these dreams are always pleasant, what is so strange is that they are so real and clear, their faces are so close I feel I could put out my hand and touch them.....

But I digress..I have wandered far to look at relics of past inhabitation , but there is little here to put a date to or to explain who it was built the high doorways from stone, I imagine that if one wanted to bring the right tools to Owl Island a DIG as they call it would lead to a story waiting to be told of those long long ago who perhaps disappeared without trace in times of lost civilisations....

So this sorted out I headed back toward the jetty to await th arrival of the row boat with Angelina (Night Priestess) to call and pick me up.... A wind was begining to blow up and I hoped that this would not see me here for another day and night.

After a trek of 5 or so hours I felt I had seen all I wanted to of the island and its baren appearance was starting to unsettle me... It had a strange loneness to it and I liked crowds, the quietness was not my scene.

On arriving at the jetty the sun was setting and I guessed it was near to tea time, so foraging for my last apple in my purple nap-sack ( It should be knapsack Lois) I sat on the end of the jetty to watch for Angelina rowing across the bay... After an hour as the sun was setting I could see her in the distance.

Behind her the sun was setting,the sky bright orange, yellow with a guilded look of a sunset one only sees now and again if living in the city.

I waved with my hankie in case she had not seen me as I thought as her head was down as she rowed in a heavy swell whipped up by a blustery breeze.

Puffing and quite out of breath, she threw the rope to me to slip over the (I can't think of the name of the round wooden things on the pier where the ships tie their ropes to) Someone might enlighten me please......

"How are you Lois ?"she said,

"Glad to see you Angelina , your the best thing I've seen all dayI replied.... "Nice compliment" she said... Climbing down into the boat I was never so glad to be back on the water and on my way back to I believed the next trip - which was going to be one to the the Archipelago.

I thought of asking Angelina where it was, but did not want to know at that stage that it was another island only accessed by way of boat.. I would wait and hear good or bad tidings of this.
I leaned foward as we left the jetty ,closing my eyes and not looking back to Owl Island.

"You might have to take your turn rowing on this trip" said The Priestess of the Night " This is hard going in choppy seas".

"Ok by me" I said as I closed my eyes ,hoping for quick nap before the hard slog set in.
I awoke with a bump, opened my eyes to see we were back to land. "I tried to wake you,no luck you were dead to the world" said Angelina... I apologised again and again... "No More " she said" Once is enough"... She took my hand and helped me climb the jetty ...

Her hands were warm to the touch , quite strong and the skin somewhat rough... I had held these hands before , I was sure of that ... It could have been someone I knew . One a friend living on a small farm in the country or one a gardener who never wears gloves and who loves to plunge her hands in the soil and get that close to the earth feeling..... As I said I knew I had felt and held these hands at another time in another place not too long ago.......

Thus ends my journey to Owl Island, not as fullfilling as I had hoped it to be ,not finding the history of its inhabitants did not worry me as I felt that their end may have been one of tragedy and I hoped their souls now rested in peace on this wild outcrop of an island that is part of Earth.
Lois (Muse of the Sea)

3 Comments:

At 5:52 AM, Blogger Fran said...

Dear Lois: Food arriving courtesy dolphins. Under no circumstances leave the Island before you get your picnic basket. The Secretary (See my note to you on Donkeys Inc.

 
At 7:30 PM, Blogger Gail Kavanagh said...

Lois, reading your stories of White Owl Osland has been like dipping into cool fresh springwater - how beautifully you write!

 
At 7:58 AM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

Great as usual.

 

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