Glendalough

On Sunday I went to Glendalough with Matt. It is pronounced Glen-due-lock. It means the valley of two lakes. Which it quite literally is. There is a big lake and a little lake in the middle of the Wicklow Mountain National Park. There are some really cool old monastic ruins in the area. It is the monastery that was founded by St. Kevin. He was the monk who, the story goes, was praying one Lent with his hands outstretched, palm up to the sky. A blackbird landed in his hand and laid an egg there. St. Kevin stood there with arms outstretched until the baby bird hatched and flew away.

In that picture you can see part of the ruins of the monastery in the background. It was soooo beautiful. It is almost reminiscient of up north in Michigan except the hills are bigger and the leaves have barely started to change at all and it is already October! I was actually walking along and it hit me, wow I am totally in Ireland right now. It was like I forgot for a bit or something. I guess that means I am at home here which is a good thing. There are all these trails that go up around the lakes and to the monastic sites and up into the mountains. We did not end up having time to take the really long trails cause we kept getting sidetracked and going to explore all the side trails and climb things.

Like this big rock. You can't see it so well in the picture, but it was quite large, taller than me. So I used the tree on the right edge to climb up on it. See what happens when other people take your pictures, they don't accurately communicate the large size of the impressive rock in your picture. Ah well, such is life. I guess everyone can't be quite as perfect as me. And you know me, I could not be content to walk along the path and just look at the pretty landscapes, I had to go traipsing all over anywhere that wasn't fenced off. It is so much more fun that way. It was only a day trip so I may go back with more friends at a later date.

It is a bit hard to see but that blackness just left of center is actually a cave at the top of a rather treacherous incline that I just had to climb to look and see what was in the cave. It was apples. It actually looked like it was the home of some animal, either that or the messiest person in the world crawled in there to eat apples. But my favorite place was probably the really old cemeteries that circled the monastic site.

You can see some of the really old gravestones in the fore and the big round tower in the back. The monks used to hide in there and pull up the ladder so the Vikings could not get them or the relics when they came raiding. I loved walking among all of the gravestones and trying to read the really old weathered ones. They still use it to this day for people who live in the area which is fabulous. So much better than our icky new-fangled flat cemetaries in the states. And of course they had the beautiful Celtic High Crosses over many of the graves.

Now that is the kind of headstone I want. It was so peaceful there. I can totally see why someone would think it was a good place to settle to contemplate God. And that is now even with all the tourists and paths, just imagine what it was like in the 11th century. Ok guys, almost done, just putting in one more pic, for my mom, who likes pictures with people in them.

That is my friend Matt who went with me and I. I wonder if that is a real sentence structure I just used. See now I have internet access at my house so these entries are gonna be so long and frequent that you will all just want me to shut up. Anyway, that is all for now.