I enter the quiet of the garden seperating the monastery and the convent next door. I really enjoy helping the blosoming convent in my travels between my home in here and the hostel in Tara. There is a quiet sweetness in the hush of the morning birds beneath the rowan oaks and the quiet gurgling of a small brook that probably feeds the deep underground well.
The monks and nuns keep a low-key life here in Cill Dara. The believers in the old religion and the inhabitants of the Christian monument here have a comfortable understanding like the well-worn edges of a table in the common room at Brigid's Bruidean.
Summer time is a time of change and restlessness. Young Uathach Cruithni has gone and grown up on her father and decided to adventure to Inver Colpa. Little Moyra Cumhaill is shuttling between her mother's home and helping with some of the menial tasks in the convent and visiting to Dunn Seannachaidh to get to know her Cumhaill kin.
I just hope the thoughts of blood and raiding will not return to us in the fall in the form of tears and more funerals.
Ah, well my morning quiet is broken by the sounds of novices in the gardens and monks across the way preparing for thier daily labour.
I get up and head to my cottage nearby to see what my day will bring.