Pareidolia

The other day Artemis and I ventured out beyond the Iveragh Peninsula (Ring of Kerry) where we are staying this summer, and explored a bit of the Beara Peninsula to the south.




We started with a stone circle. It may be a little hard to see, but near the center of that photo is the Uragh stone circle.

The stone circles in Ireland are found on low hillsides surrounded beauty and sky. They are tucked away on the corners of landscapes. Almost all of them are on privately-held land, and the landowners have varying degrees of tolerance for visitors. Most of them are cool with it.

This stone circle is on a narrow isthmus between lakes.

I get so muddled when looking for them on my own. I actually have come to recognize the state of confusion that arises when searching for a stone circle even with a solid latitude and longitude reference and still not finding it. So it was a relief to see the familiar brown heritage signs on the road.

You find robust navigational aids like these for circles where the land owner is keen to have visitors, like this one, in Gleninchaquin Park. They ask €4 per person. They aren't demanding, like. Just a collection box with a coin-sized slot in it. So worth it. For less than the cost of pint you can experience this:

Near this park is another stone circle that I haven't yet visited, somewhere up that hill.




See those little purple mountains on the horizon on the lower right? Those would be Knocknagantee, Comavanniha, or maybe Knockmoyle peak, behind Sneem, our village.

Here is a better view of Uragh stone circle. All these good photos are by Artemis.




Everyone wants to visit a stone circle alone. They are temples that invite awe, contemplation, and all the different techniques of Seeing, Sensing, and Knowing that you may have been developing all your life. That's why it is such a bummer to hike up to this stone circle and find an energetic five-year-old bouncing around on the stones while the poor mother tries to get in a little spirituality of her own.

When those two finally left, up walked a woman of around our age, with that familiar look about her of a woman who wanted to be at the stone circle by herself. So Artemis and I walked back down the path, and faced the opposite direction toward Cloonee Loughs, and the mountains of the Iveragh. I settled in against her knee, and we made this view our "waiting room."




I could have stayed there all afternoon.

Artemis also took this picture of the cutest mushroom in Ireland.




When the woman left the circle, she walked by and thanked us for making way for her. We chatted a bit about where we were from, discussed various "energies" of the stone circles we knew, and whatnot.

Finally, we were able to hang out at the circle alone.

I have been making sketches of the places we visit not because I am any good at it, but because it is one of the ways that a logo-centric person like me can drop into a different reality and See.

One doesn't need to be in an art trance to notice that Ireland looks like a woman. Waterfalls that look like vulvas are found all over the world, but Ireland sure has its share of vulva rivers and breast mountains.

There is another waterfall near us, behind Sneem, between those mountains visible in our "waiting room" at Gleninchaquin. If there is a sunny day after rain, it looks like this.




That waterfall and the one at Gleninchaquin look exactly like an open vulva, with hills like open thighs surrounding her. There's no mistaking it. I'm sure our ancestors were as susceptible to pareidolia as we are.

And more, the two waterfalls at Gleninchaquin and Sneem face each other across the fiord of Kenmare river, like two exhausted lovers falling on their backs after mutual orgasm. That's what I see, anyway.