Where Once We Were

Vienna Woods Hotel, Glanmire, Co. Cork; ours 1985 - 1988

We lived by the woods with

Once with paths of cobblestone, where 

Lords and Ladies strolled.

Summer leisure house, 1756

Lord Barrymore

Path through the woods (now covered and inaccessible with debris by current owners)

Our children sat on milk stools
By the fire.

These were found in muck where a stable once stood.

We wandered, heads to the sky,

Through the Rock of Cashel

Once called Rock of Patrick.

Nearly 900 years ago.

Watched as tides ebbed and flowed,
Of the Glashaboy River and beneath
Spire of St. Mary's.

Our children made memories
Forever 
Shaping their lives.

Town of Glanmire

Our children by a shelter in the woods (Now bulldozed by current owner)

Our youngest by a tree, two hundred years old (This and others were removed by current owners)

Road leading to Vienna Woods Hotel

Weddings and love were celebrated

In banquet rooms elegant.

Now it was our hotel, our responsibility.

A small wedding room in the hotel--now completely re-modeled.

Blarney supplied stone steps and

A stone to kiss,

A tree before a grand house

Where an elite lives.

Home of Sir Charles St. John Colthurst, Baronet

Where are

we now? 

Will we go back?

When?

Now, in 2018, thirty years after we lived there. Fitzgerald Vienna Woods Hotel

The Old Tree at Blarney

Blarney Manor House and its old tree

“Weel, now, Pat, I’ll tell ye…” Grandad wheezed from his bed.  “The secret of the old tree is this…”

Some 150 years ago the Lord of Blarney Castle ordered the young Thomas O’Roark to cut down the oak tree, since it interfered with the view of the castle.  Cutting down a healthy old oak tree?  Desecration…you damn English built your ships with Irish oak!  So Thomas pondered how to save the tree.

His old Gran listened to Thomas voice his anger and hurt.  Her eyes twinkled. “Weel now, Thomas, I’ll tell ye.  T’ain’t nothin more da English afeared than da’ curses that befall them when dey break our magic.  You go down to da’ pub in Carrigtwohill and tell Ol’ Paddy der dis…”

So Thomas went to the pub and found Ol’ Paddy spinning his stories to the local boys.  He pulled Ol’ Paddy aside, and told him what he had heard in the wind about the oak tree.  And, before Thomas was out the door, Ol’ Paddy was telling the tale whispered from Gran to Thomas to Ol’ Paddy.

Two days later, the Lord of the manor nervously pulled Thomas aside and pleaded with him NOT to cut down the tree.  That he had heard the whispered legend about “If ye cut the tree down, ye cut down the Lord of Blarney…”  Thomas told him  indeed that was what had been said all these years.

The tree was spared.  In fact, Thomas made sure his sole job was to keep that old tree alive.  Thomas’ son Conor did the same.  Conor even grafted shoots from other healthy oaks onto the branches.

The Lord of Blarney was so grateful that he gave Conor his own cottage to be near the tree at all times.

Over the years, the top of the tree grew blackened and scarred, which scared the bejeebers out of the Lord.  Conor’s son Liam rescued the tree, invoking the fairy magic and some horse manure, plus some horticultural knowledge.

Now Grandad passed the truth down to Pat.  He breathed his last, a smile on his face.

Blarney Castle

PhotoPrompt: Blarney Manor House and Tree

Blarney Manor House, Cork County, Ireland

This eerie tree is/was near the Blarney Castle, Co. Cork, Ireland.  The house in the background is Blarney Manor House, owned and occupied by the Lord of Blarney and his family. 

In a land that is so very green that it sometimes overwhelms the senses, this tree is starkly void of leaves and seemingly of life.

Using this photo as inspiration, write anything you wish—prose, poetry, flash fiction—anything.  Link it back to this site.  On the right sidebar are frequent participants in Monday PhotoPrompt writing; click on those and see what other inspirations you might find.

Happy writing!