They did not know her - gods are hard for mortals to recognise - Homer His gate was closed. A rusty lock kept a low profile pretending its job but there was no quibble in the creak. It seemed like time had stopped. The flowers were gone. Weeds filled the cracks consolidating the …
Crete: The Art Of Ariadne by Karina Tynan
There are some places in this world that are almost untouched; where mother nature has made it impossible to be conquered. Scorching heat, mountains that defy agriculture. On Crete, as on the other islands in Greece you are almost always in landscape and the myths are never far away. As in Ireland the …
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The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Gráinne a Retelling by Karina Tynan
Introduction : The beautiful Gráinne, daughter of King Cormac Mac Airt was promised to be the new wife of the ageing Fionn mac Cumhaill, the leader of the band of warriors called *The Fianna. At their betrothal feast Gráinne slipped a sleeping potion into the drinks of the guests so she could ask Diarmuid Ua Duibhne to come …
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Photos of Croagh Patrick from Clare Island by Karina Tynan
Croagh Patrick is a holy mountain situated in Co Mayo, West Coast of Ireland. The mountain is called after Saint Patrick, Ireland's patron saint who is reputed to have fasted on it's summit for forty days and nights 441AD. Each year it is climbed by thousands of pilgrims on what is called Reek Sunday (or …
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Eulogy for a Seal, a poem by Karina Tynan
The sea was blue before I saw you, before I heard your mother cry, “Everything is worse without you: the earth, the sea, the sky.” The sea was blue before I thought a crow or seagull must have fought for your changeling eyes. It’s in the myth, not many know, you came to …
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The Bard Summer School, Clare Island, Co Mayo, Ireland.
Do you remember summer rain …
…when sheltering was a game: that hollow tree by the meadow - our house. When a sun shower was the name for a break in the journey to the weir for a swim. And nobody drowned and no one got lost in the woods and there were no woodcutters to flatten the grass only ever …
Don’t go asleep A Retelling by Karina Tynan
Introduction : Emer, the wife of the great warrior Cú Chulainn (The Hound of Ulster) tells the story of their marriage. My world is broken. Grey skies hang over my agony. The grey lake is a mirror. I do not want that small light prying through. I do not want to hear birds brazening out their …
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A Girl Fishing, a poem by Karina Tynan
Before he had sons, or she had brothers he took her, as if she were a son. He got her up at five, to set illegal lines for eel. Crisp and early, behind the veil of morning she remembered her delight, teeming out, her voice, a hoarse screech, her step catching up through deep dew grass. Then by the river, his …
Good Friday, a memoir by Karina Tynan
For Andy Upstairs was home. Sometimes we could see smoke seeping through the floorboards, feel the thump of the jukebox, the thrum of drunken voices. We were used to the noise, always there, the backdrop to every moment of our lives, a constant other world muffled by floorboards and linoleum. Good Friday was the only …
