One of my favorite American painters, Andrew Wyeth, once said, “Solitude is a lost art.” I’ve always loved that quote because it’s so simple and true. For most of my life, I’ve been noted for my natural talents in the visual arts. However, since writing the Jevic novels, I consider myself someone who paints with written words.

During this first month of Spring, we have all been asked to isolate ourselves to slow the spread of COVID-19. While most people struggle with this challenge, I’ve taken the time to revisit my former self to see if that natural talent has abandoned me.

I used to be pretty good with oil paint, but I’ve always loved sculpting. So I decided to transform a ten-pound block of grey clay into the magical creature Jevic’s readers know as Mimick, an interesting character in Jevic and The Sword. When Jevic first met Mimick, I immediately fell in love with his innocence, humor and loyalty. So, of course I was thrilled when he seemed to touch my readers as well.

It took me a couple days to work that cold, grey block into the gargoyle whose image was so vivid inside my head. I’m thankful to share that I had no trouble tapping into my former self. I hope my readers are not disappointed in my portrayal. If the Mimick in your own head is more to your liking, please hold on to him instead. After all, that’s what makes reading so incredible. We open a book in solitude, but the words we find within can stay with us forever.

Google Maps capture of a fairy rath in Ireland. Go to Google and zoom in anywhere in Ireland. These mysterious fairy circles everywhere.

As technology continues to change our world, the importance of things that are inherently sacred are quickly being forgotten.

It is difficult for children of today to imagine a world without a mobile phone or tablet, much less one without a television, or a television with only three channels. With an abundance of entertainment at their fingertips, children do not spend enough time exploring the world they are part of. They spend time in a digitally-generated world rather than climbing trees, chasing frogs, picking wildflowers, or catching bugs–activities that create a bond with and respect for the world around them. As a result, fewer people are aware of the ancient sacred places in this world.

When I visited Ireland, these places were everywhere. The energy I felt at the fairy raths, stone forts, wells, and monolithic sites was life-changing. The high power these places channel is humbling to the soul. At once I understood why generations before us held these sacred places in such high esteem. Because the church would not allow unbaptized babies to be buried on holy ground, many families entrusted the fairy raths with the bodies of their children. And yet to my dismay, even in Ireland there were people who knew little of the fairies when we visited in 2016.

Despite our busy lives, we cannot forget the spirits of the Earth. Their mysterious existence reminds us that we each have a spirit of our own to preserve and respect.

Here’s a fantastic tribute to the national preservation effort of such sacred spaces in Ireland: http://webgis.archaeology.ie/NationalMonuments/FlexViewer/. At one time there were about 80,000 of these sacred sites in Ireland alone. Today about 60,000 remain. Ignorance and greed destroyed so many. The Monument Act of 1930 now protects the sites where these spirits of the Earth dwell. Visit the site. Remember…there is much more to this world than meets the eye.

What have I been doing for the past two years instead of writing here? My husband and I have been building a dream. With our four children out on their own, the old homestead became uncomfortably quiet, and we did what we usually do when things get quiet…we got a little crazy!

Fifteen acres and a 4-bedroom, 2.5 bath colonial was not what we needed anymore. So we subdivided the land we loved in half and decided to build something smaller. I wanted to go underground, bury a couple of boxcars and live like a hobbit. We also considered a modular–slap it together and get it over with. But after knocking around several ideas, we found ourselves standing inside the same model log home we’d visited in our early twenties. We’d always dreamed of owning a log home, and if we were going to do this one more time (our fourth home, third build), we needed to build our dream home. After an hour-long chat with the designer on site, we grabbed a few floor plans to look at and went home to figure things out.

My husband and I are do-it-yourselfers by necessity and know much more than the average couple. It has been a wild and crazy two year project, but we did it! And now, I’m going to share what we learned with everyone interested in building their own log cabin out of sweat, blood and dreams.

There’s no sunshine today, but here’s a photo of our new home as we wait for the family to come fill it with laughter on a rainy Mother’s Day afternoon.

It needs another coat of stain, gutters and some more grass seed, but those are minor details. I will share with you how the whole thing came together from choosing the perfect spot in these woods to finding light fixtures and a claw-foot tub online.

All you dreamers out there need to watch how a crazy couple in their late fifties build a dream cabin with help from the right people, trust in each other, and the decision to set out on a journey with no turning back. After all, what are dreams if not blueprints for tomorrow.

While traveling in England and Ireland, one of the things I found most interesting was the abundance of gorgeous wildflowers. Being a believer in the fairy spirits of this world, this of course was just another sign of their overwhelming presence on those islands.

Wherever there was an old castle, church, stone wall, or fort, there were beautiful flowers that, like all living things, thrive when they are wild and free.

The remains of an old wall at Tintagel Castle.

A slate wall beside the main road in Tintagel. This was one of the few places we saw people-planted flowers, red geraniums. The flowers along the base of the wall were growing wild.

Ballycarbury Castle wall, County Kerry, Ireland.

Flowers on the stones in the cemetery outside the Rock of Cashel.

Flowers on the stones in the cemetery outside the Rock of Cashel.

The wall around the Rock of Cashel.

Queen Anne’s lace along the walk to a fairy hill near Fore, Ireland. Even the bees flying around it were huge, explaining my uncomfortable expression. Everything along that path had been touched by the magic of the nature spirits.

The view from the roadway up to Ballycarbery Castle.

As we drove through the charming little port town of Portmagee, the misty air was accented with the most hypnotic scent. It was a scent that lured us away from all other senses, demanding full attention until it had made itself known…peat. If only there were a way I could share that moment with you here, but my words and images fall short this time.

The next day, one of the most anticipated destinations on our trip to Ireland was to be Skellig Michael, a rugged island 7.2 miles off the southwest coast. Once a Christian monastery, possibly established as early as the 6th century and inhabited until the 12th, this World Heritage site became even more popular after scenes for Star Wars: The Force Awakens and Star Wars: Episode VIII were filmed there. We had reserved seats on a boat to the island months in advance and had come to Portmagee to confirm our trip. Unfortunately, there is no controlling the weather. Captain Casey phoned during breakfast the next morning to tell us the weather had deteriorated forcing him to cancel our trip. I was disappointed to the point of tears, yet some things work out exactly as they should. This would be the first of several times fate would guide us in the proper direction.

Our generous hosts, Tom and Ellish, at the Sea Breeze B & B in Cahersiveen mapped out a day of local sights for us that made it one of the most memorable in spite of the storm. Rather than spending a whole day traveling to and from one tiny island, we spent the day traveling around the Iveragh peninsula, part of the Ring of Kerry.

The wind and rain did not keep us from Valentia Island, accessible by bridge, where we visited St. Brendan’s Well and Knight’s Town. Brendan, The Voyager, is one of the Twelve Apostles of Ireland.

St. Brendan’s Well on Valentia Island.

In Knight’s Town, we stepped through our first kissing gate into a cemetery where old knights of Ireland are buried.

The kissing gate into the cemetery at Knightstown. These gates are everywhere in Ireland, built so people can pass through but not livestock. The gate swings open enough so you can step into the c-shape on the opposite side, step past and swing gate closed.

The ruins of Ballycarbery Castle stood alone on a hilltop above the rolling green countryside.

Last but certainly not least, Cahergal Fort is a breathtaking stacked stone ring fort built so meticulously that it stands proud and strong atop its own hill with a view I shall never forget.

Cahergal Fort near Cahersiveen, County Kerry, Ireland. This stone ring fort was in the middle of a pasture. We had to shoo a herd of heifers off the path so we could get to it. What is totally amazing is that there are others much like it on the Emerald Isle.  

Even in the pounding rain, this was the most beautiful land I have ever walked upon. And if I am blessed enough to ever return to Ireland again in this lifetime, I look forward to revisiting the enchanting Ring of Kerry. Maybe I will even make it out to Skellig Michael. If a return trip is not possible in my lifetime, you can bet I will be doing a fly-by on my way to the life after this.

A friend actually shared this link with me, when I shared it on Facebook, my cousin commented that he was taught this decades ago in forestry school. Check it out!

Trees Talking To Trees

This is the path to Knocknarea, a large hill near the city of Sligo, Ireland. The summit of this hill is believed to be the final resting place of Queen Maeve, the fairy queen.

Really, you say? Well, I’m not the only one who believes that. We were there mid-week and passed a thin but steady stream of fellow believers who were also visiting to pay their respects. There was an elderly couple, probably in their late 80’s. There was a single woman in her 40’s. And there were a few young families. From our B&B, a twenty-minute drive away, we could see the cairn that marks Maeve’s grave. It’s that little bump at the top in the image below.

Because it is a custom to carry your own rock to the grave and leave it as a sign of respect, my husband and I each had one in our pocket. And knowing daisies are one of the very favorite flowers of the fairies, I stopped beside the path where some were growing to consider bringing Maeve a few of those as well. On the rock wall beneath the flowers someone had left several coins in exchange for the flowers they’d taken. I smiled and left a few coins before picking a few of my own. Why? Because it’s all about respect with the fairies.

The hillside ahead was covered with rich, green grass and low-growing heather that was just beginning to bloom. Although we were anxious to reach the top, I found myself turning around again and again to admire the gorgeous view of the countryside, which just kept getting better.

After about 25 minutes, we could see the top. We could also see several people standing on top of the mound of stones left behind for the queen, which was quite disrespectful. I stayed beside the cairn where I left my stone and flowers.

I can’t imagine how many stones there were in that mound. There had to be a million!

Right after I posed for the photo above, it began to pour. The temperature was about 40 degrees Fahrenheit, and the huge drops of rain felt like hail pounding down on us. As we were fighting to get our coats on in the wind, one woman passing by all alone said, “That’s Maeve…she never cares much for company.”

Being someone who loves my own solitude, I can definitely respect the queen for that.

If you’ve read my “Driving Through Wales, UK” you know the place is gorgeous although difficult to fully appreciate while traveling the crazy roads through that countryside. What you do not yet know is what lies at the end of that road that twists and turns to the coast where Wales meets the Irish Sea.

In January 2014, storms off the west coast of Wales unburied a Bronze Age forest that dates back 6,000 years. While old Welsh legends have mentioned a land lost under rising seas, it was not until the storms washed away centuries of sand and peat that there was evidence of truth to those legends. If you’ve read my Jevic series, you can understand why I have a particular interest in any opportunity to prove there is more to the stories we too easily dismiss as “legend” or “fairy tales.” These tales do not survive centuries without some element of truth.

Made up of mostly oak and pine, this mysterious forest was featured in a National Geographic article a month after the stumps of hundreds of trees rose from the dead. The peat and lack of oxygen had preserved these trees perfectly. And when we visited two and a half years later, we could still see the wood grain and the knotted roots for ourselves. Unfortunately, the tree stumps are now totally exposed to the elements and locals occasionally find pieces that have broken free washed up the beach.

Our gracious hosts Phil and Rona at the York House B&B were experts on the subject and had even been interviewed by media about these amazing tree stumps that just appeared on the beach in front of their home. Some believe this forest grew on a piece of land that once stretched 20 miles to the west of the current coastline. Could it be that Wales had its own lost city of Atlantis? I’m a believer!

This stretch of coastline was once renowned for its beautiful sand dunes, but I didn’t make it to the dunes. I had two hours time on either side of low tide when the trees were receiving visitors on the beach. I’ve shared some of those shots are here, but the photos taken right after they were uncovered are definitely more impressive. The large dark clumps on the sand are actually roots and stumps packed in peat…basically, it’s the old forest floor. The shifting sands and sea do not always share what’s left as openly as they did when they were first exposed.

Once again…we have proof that there is much more to this world than meets the eye. Keep those minds and eyes open. You never know what it may decide to share with you!

Check out this article in Daily Mail where they have amazing images like the one below.

Click here to view that NatGeo article.