Forests vs Plantations

Ireland was once covered in forest, but after the arrival of farms in the Neolithic, Ireland's long history of tree felling began. English landlords cut down last of Ireland's great wild forests to build the English Navy. 

Everyone in Ireland today you see acres of dark rectangles running up the hillsides. These are tree plantations, mostly Sitka Spruce from North America, a practice which started in the 1930s. The plantations are not forests. Inside they are dark, the tree limbs are dead, and the ground is acid.

The plantations are managed by a private/public partnership called Coilte (sort of pronounced co-il-cha). Coilte manages what used to be managed by the Department of Agriculture, it's a privatization of public lands, basically, and it makes a profit.

With that as your context, enjoy this story from the Irish Times. 

Tree-felling ‘conscientious protector’ convicted of timber theft

Welsh-born Sionad Jones tells court of Sitka spruce’s harmful effect on Irish biodiversity

A woman who described herself as “a conscientious protector of the environment” has promised not to cut down any more Sitka spruce after a judge warned her she faced jail if she didn’t stop such activity.
Sionad Jones (61) from Maughnaclea, Kealkill, Bantry, Co Cork had been convicted by a jury of stealing €500 worth of Sitka spruce belonging to Coillteafter she felled some 250 trees at the remote plantation at Maughnaclea.

Jones had been charged with two offences arising out of her actions in 2018 during which she cut down 250 Sitka spruce, ring marked another 250 causing them to die and planted broadleaves in their place at the plantation.

Judge Seán Ó Donnabháin had directed the jury at Cork Circuit Criminal Court to find her not guilty of causing criminal damage following legal argument.
But the jury of four men and eight women took just 38 minutes to find Welsh native Jones guilty of dishonestly, appropriating or stealing 250 logs worth €500 from Coillte.

The judge said he wanted Jones to give an undertaking that there would be no repeat of her behaviour. And he also said she should not cut down, remove and burn any trees from the plantation.
“I understand that I am not to do that again without the permission of Coillte. I understand that and I take it seriously,” said Jones after her barrister, Peter O’Flynn, said she was willing to comply with any order of the court.

The judge said he was still baffled by her behaviour after hearing evidence how she had cut down the trees with a chainsaw and then burned the logs at her home and yet claims to be a protector of the environment.
“I don’t understand how a hero of the greenery can go around with a chainsaw in one hand and a burning log in the other and claim to be a protector of the environment. Where is the protection of the environment in that? he asked.

He also said that he was less than impressed by Jones and a group of her supporters who mounted a protest outside the Anglesea Street Courthouse, using his court as “a platform for idle political engagement”.
He noted Jones had abided by a previous undertaking she had given – when convicted of cultivating cannabis – not to grow any more cannabis plants. And he adjourned the case until October 30th to see she abides by her undertaking.

Garda Fintan Coffey had told the court that he visited the Maughnaclea plantation on December 4th, 2018, when he encountered Jones driving out of the forestry in her green Toyota Starlet. So he stopped her.
She was covered in sawdust when she got out of her car and he noticed she had a chainsaw in the car. After he cautioned her she told him that she had been felling spruce trees in the forest which she knew belonged to Coillte.

He said he saw a large clearing of spruce trees in the forest where he noticed recently felled stumps, stacked logs and ring-marked trees as well as broadleaf trees which had been planted in the ground.
Jones agreed to come into Bantry Garda Station where she made a voluntary statement, admitting she felled Sitka spruce trees and replaced them with 46 native Irish broadleaves including birch, oak, hazel, alder and rowan.

“This morning I was sawing down a few Spruce trees in order to create space to plant different trees, proper trees, native trees,” said Jones adding that she had been cutting down spruce there for 20 years and planting broadleaves.

During explained during her trial that Sitka spruce is not native to Ireland and is having a huge detrimental effect on biodiversity. She said trees spread out as they grow and branches interlink, blocking light.
It meant Sitka spruce plantations are devoid of plant and animal life with plants such as orchids and bilberry no longer able to survive there while insects and native species are badly affected.

The other particular problem with the Sitka spruce plantation at Maughnaclea was that the pine needles led to acidification of the water courses, which had in turn led to the water in her well become acidic.
Broadleaf trees have the opposite effect so that was another reason why she had taken to planting them, as well as trying to restore the biodiversity associated with native Irish forests.

Cross-examined by prosecution barrister Brendan Kelly, Jones described herself as “a conscientious protector of the environment” which she said had the same legal standing as conscientious objectors who refused to go to war.

Asked if she accepted Coillte owned the Maughnaclea plantation, Jones replied she acknowledged the State agency managed it on behalf of taxpayers. But she believed the forest belonged to the people of Ireland and should be protected.

“I’ve been managing the forest for at least 20 years because of Coillte’s neglect of its duties to the Irish people. I took over as a concerned citizen who has a duty of care to ensure biodiversity,” she said.

Updates:

More photos, more updates. 

A follow-up in her own words.  

On Mardi Gras the Irish Eat Crêpes.

I learned by accident that in Ireland, what we call crepes the Irish call pancakes. Years ago friends took me to Pancake Cottage on the road over Moll's Gap. I didn't understand that Irish pancakes come in savory and sweet, just like they do at the Crepe Place in Santa Cruz. Had I known, I would have been as excited as I am right now this minute thinking about them.

The other thing I've learned is that Mardi Gras, or Shrove Tuesday, or the Day-Before-Ash-Wednesday, is called Pancake Day, and children look forward to pancakes for dinner. We forgot to have pancakes for dinner tonight, but I hope we have them tomorrow morning because we're not Catholic and can do what we want. 

If you want American pancakes, some cafes have what they call American pancakes, but I've never had any that weren't thick and overcooked. The feather-light Irish pancakes are what you really want.

Pancake Day is the only current Lenten tradition I know of personally. Some people I know observe Lenten abstentions, but most people are doing Dry January instead these days. 

For those who need the reminder, Catholics observe a season of fasting from meat, drink, and other luxuries 40 days before Easter. Because Easter is a Sunday, Lent always starts on a Wednesday, so the Tuesday before is always a bit of a party. It's the last day to party until Easter. 

Except in Ireland. St. Patrick's Day is always in the middle of Lent, as the Tommy Tiernan tells it.

I've only ever eaten fresh pancakes, but I've seen "pancakes" in the shops pre-cooked, that you... put in the microwave?

https://waterfordwhispersnews.com/2020/02/25/piece-of-shit-mother-seems-to-think-small-round-american-pancakes-acceptable-purchase/

Piece Of Shit Mother Seems To Think Small Round American Pancakes Acceptable Purchase

A TERRIBLE Waterford based mother has been reported to child welfare services after thinking she could bring home shop bought small, thick and circular American style ‘pancakes’ for her children and just get away with it.

Described by social workers as one of the most disturbing cases they’ve ever had the displeasure of working on, Siobhan Hearty (37) henceforth known as a ‘piece of shit mother’, served up microwave heated American style pancakes; the sort that are reviled by all right-thinking Irish people.

“It was horrific, the kids were there all distraught looking at these small thick circular yokes, bland yokes that don’t taste of anything, and her, the mother, without an ounce of guilt on her face,” confirmed one social worker who admitted immediately phoning the armed police unit when she realised what was going on.

Stones and Crosses

The stone cross on the Irish landscape was introduced by Romano-British evangelists like St. Patrick in the 500s. You find them everywhere. 

I can't help noticing how similar these crosses are to standing stones. It's just an observation, but did the early abbots—who were of the same Irish social class who erected standing stones— repurpose an indigenous symbolic language? Both crosses and standing stones say: This Land is Mine! 

Here's the cross at Mevagh, near a 12th century ruin built on the site of an early medieval church. 









There's another ruined church near us, at Ray ("rye"). 



There's a cross inside that church, the tallest in Ireland. The cross was carved from granite with quartz inclusions, like I've seen in many standing stone circles. 




Here's an example of a sacred stone with inclusions near the stone circle at Drombeg in Cork:


This is a stone in the Bohonagh Stone Circle, also in Cork:





In the early Christian period, the evangelists began carving bible stories on the crosses, and patterned decoration, although perhaps those patterns held a meaning for people at that time. 


This is a carving on the cross at Cloncha, near Malin. 










The ruined church at Cloncha. 




The crosses in Donegal are the oldest in Ireland, because this is the home of St. Columba, who established the system Abbeys across Ireland, Scotland, and the rest of Europe. 


The grounds of church at Kells, contain several examples of more elaborately carved crosses that came later. 



















This scene depicts the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist. Those two circular things represent the river Jordan. Or maybe mushrooms. Who knows? 


Recently, I passed St. Mary's, Catholic church in Ramelton, and saw its Irish cross against the horizon, looking so much like a standing stone on the horizon. 





This cross dates from 1913. 


The standing stone nearest to us is just a wee one, perhaps only the top half of the pillar that once stood here on in the dunes. 

There's one thing I do know. This spot doesn't feel Christian at all.  

Poitín

I always thought that poitín, "po-chin," Irish moonshine, was made from fermented potatoes, but according to this documentary, poitín is made from malted barley and oats, just like whiskey. 

(The original video I posted isn't available anymore.
This is a clip from a dvd that you can purchase on ebay, which I just might.)

If you watch this most excellent film you will learn so many wonderful things. 

You will learn the word "whiskey" comes from the Irish for "water of life," uisce beatha "ish ka ba ha." 

You will be told stories about making poitín and avoiding The Revenue. 

You will see the parallels between 18th century prohibition of poitín and 21st-century prohibition of cannabis, and how Revenue from Taxes changes the econmics and criminal justice system. 

You will learn the one cool trick that poitín-makers used to keep  "the worm"—the copper helical tube—hidden from The Revenue.

The film is a beautiful blend of how-to video, folk tales, and the beauty of Connemara, all explained in the Irish language. 


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4TM8Mxyui0
men telling stories

A Trip to Sligo for Health and Recreation

I went to Sligo last week and it cured my cabin fever overnight. 

I arrived on the bus from Dunfanaghy in time to visit my pal John Willmott, the Woodland Bard, who is nearly recovered from a little stroke. 

I had some time to kill before visiting hours, so I did what normal people do; I went to the Public Library to read magazines. I found the GCN, which probably used to mean "Gay Community News" but now is more inclusive, and by that I mean gay men and trans youth.

The advertisements haven't changed a bit. 

The library's back wall shows us this scene of "The Battle of the Book," the world's first intellectual property dispute, which I have written about before. 

Two tree lovers. 

After good craic with John, I had dinner with a new friend, who used to live in our Dunfanaghy house. Sometimes her mail got delivered there, so we sent it on to her at her new home in Ballybofey. She stopped by last year to thank us, and we were delighted to discover we were all lesbians. 

I started out the next morning with breakfast at Pearse Lodge, where I stay in Sligo. They have been running the B&B for decades and have everything dialed in and optimized. For example, the porridge comes with freshly sliced fruit, berries, honey, and drambuie.

I don't know how they make it, but the coffee was the best I've had in Ireland.

You could taste the fruit in the beans, and I drank it without cream. Pearse Lodge, my friends, your home in Sligo.

Fortified, I launched myself into adventures. On my way to town I passed the very Victorian courthouse:

...and noticed this famous law firm across the street from it. 

According to Sligotown.net, these are the real names of solicitors who practiced here in the 1920s. 

Because it is open only in the mornings, my first stop was the Sligo County Museum. I try to visit every county museum I find in Ireland. They are always funky, friendly, and under-funded. 

I most wanted to visit the Countess Markievicz room. Constance neé Gore-Booth's family home of Lissadell is north of Sligo, and she is Sligo's home favorite revolutionary hero. That's an apron she wore in prison after the 1916 Rising. The painting, "The Arrest" captures the moment of Markeivicz's surrender of her command at on St. Stephen's Green. 

After a week's occupation the surrender took place at two o'clock in the afternoon of Sunday 30 [April]. Major Wheeler, son of the late, Surgeon Wheeler, accompanied by a force of military, attended at the hour, and was received by the rebel leader, the Countess Markievicz. She was still wearing top boots, breeches, service tunic and a hat with feathers.' At the surrender to Major Wheeler, she shook hands with her officers and kissed her Mauser pistol before handing it over to the Major and said "I am ready."

The artist, Kathleen Fox, shipped the finished painting to New York in 1919 because she was afraid it would be confiscated by the British. It wasn't found until the 1960s. 

In the center of the painting is Markievicz in her trousers, and to the right, the artist herself. 

Also in this room is a 100 pound lump of bog butter, which didn't photograph any better than it looked in real life. The bog butter is a perfect example of what you find in an Irish County Museum: Cool shit with little commercial value beyond its importance to regular people. 

A random carved stone from a 1500 year-old church. 

Early Christian Triple Spiral

Violin of "the greatest fiddler in Ireland." 

Rosary beads.



Contraband crucifixes and a DIY communion wafer cutter. These artifacts date from "penal times" when public displays of Catholicism could get you arrested, deported, or executed. 

A flag from the Land League of the 1880s. 

I love the cut of this Land League jacket. 

A meeting supporting Home Rule, which would have saved a lot of heartache, had Lloyd George and Churchill not been bastards. Home Rule was a solution to Britain's "Irish Problem," promised in 1913, put on hold until "after the war in France." By 1918 Ireland voted for complete independence. 

It was the first election that included some Irish women. 

The gold chain worn by the Lord Mayor of Sligo, and the maces which represent the power of the office. Mayors of U.S. Cities don't get any of that medieval stuff.

Most people probably come to this museum for the W. B. Yeats artifacts, which I found less impressive than golden chains and bog butter. 

I had not read this quotation before and found the rest of it in the Sacred Texts Archive, in The Celtic Twilight. 

Earth, Fire, and Water

Some French writer that I read when I was a boy, said that the desert went into the heart of the Jews in their wanderings and made them what they are. I cannot remember by what argument he proved them to be even yet the indestructible children of earth, but it may well be that the elements have their children. If we knew the Fire Worshippers better we might find that their centuries of pious observance have been rewarded, and that the fire has given them a little of its nature; and I am certain that the water, the water of the seas and of lakes and of mist and rain, has all but made the Irish after its image.

Images form themselves in our minds perpetually as if they were reflected in some pool. We gave ourselves up in old times to mythology, and saw the Gods everywhere. We talked to them face to face, and the stories of that communion are so many that I think they outnumber all the like stories of all the rest of Europe.

Even to-day our country people speak with the dead and with some who perhaps have never died as we understand death; and even our educated people pass without great difficulty into the condition of quiet that is the condition of vision.

We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet. Did not the wise Porphyry think that all souls come to be born because of water, and that 'even the generation of images in the mind is from water'?

I like the notion of a trance meditation that attracts the elementals to us. I've felt it here for sure.  

Just down the street from the museum is Yeats himself, wrapped in his words. I didn't take a photo, but everyone else has. 

The statue is in front of the Ulster Bank, a Romanesque temple to money, where these Ulster hands caught my eye. 




I've mentioned this Ulster emblem before. These days its appearance indicates the Ulster Unionist community with Britain rather than representing just one of four provinces on the island of Ireland. 


That Moderne building serves as an annex to the bank. It reminds me of the original Santa Cruz Coffee Roasting Company building on north Pacific.

Thomas Connolly pub is a famous music venue, and where you catch the bus back to Donegal. 

I walked up the hill to The Model, Sligo's art museum. 

"The Model" refers to its history as a model grammar school. Innovators and disruptors are forever reforming education, aren't they? 

You can see Knocknarea with Meave's cairn from The Model, and the spire of the Catholic cathedral which I visited later. 

The Jack Yeats (brother to the poet) pictures are what I wanted to see at The Model. Here are a few from the museum's website. 

An Island Funeral

After art, it was time for lunch, so I took advantage of being in a big city and ate a bento box at Miso, the Japanese/Korean restaurant. O wasabi, I miss you so. 

The center of Sligo town, with the bridge across the Garavogue, Yeats Building on the left, The Glass House on the right. 

I would have missed Henry Lyon's Department store had I not read about it in Sligotown.net, "operating on these premises" since 1878. 

I ended up in the lingerie department, and bought my breasts a new outfit. They deserve it, after what they've been through.

Near the department store is one of Ireland's few public statues of a female, though allegorical. 

The Lady Erin Monument commemorates "the fallen heroes" of the 1798 Rebellion. Sligo erected the statue and celebrated the rebels in 1899, while Ireland remained part of Great Britain. Cheeky.

Speaking of rebels, this monument near the river commemorates Bernardo O'Higgins, the Irish-Spainish-Chilean who led the liberation of that country from Spain. 

If former Taoiseach Enda Kenny "rollz shit jointz," I don't know, but I had to laugh. 

For more laughs, time for cathedrals. 




That's the Catholic Cathedral on the left, the Church of Ireland Cathedral on the right, and Peace Park in between. 

The gate to Church of Ireland was locked at the street, so I couldn't even explore the burial ground. 

The door of the Catholic cathedral faces away from the street, per the former landowner. 

Sligo’s Catholic Cathedral was built in 1874 on land previously owned by a protestant landowner who purchased the land from a previous owner under the pretense that it was to be developed into a garden allotment, in fact the land had been purchased with the sole intention of selling it on to the Catholic Church. 

Though when the previous owner of the land became aware of the true purpose for which the land had been purchased, he informed the new owners that he would only sell the land for the purposes of building a Catholic Church on the condition that the main doors of the church faced away from Sligo Town. (Sligotown.net)

Its name is Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, but what greets us from the altar last week is a giant Brigid's Cross. 

The side chapels were devoted to modern saints. 

At this one to St. Bernadette, I lit a candle for the health of my favorite atheist, Philip Pullman. We are all waiting for him to finish the third volume of The Book of Dust.

Near the back, a shrine to that horrible person, Sister Theresa. 

And then I was tired and had done all the things. 

I treated myself to a half-dozen local Lissadell oysters and a Mexican beer.  I bought that little swiss army knife for myself, but I have a feeling it is too funny not to give it away. 

We're living in a difficult time. What to do about it? Give money? Volunteer against voter supression? What else for one's mental health?  I recommend a day trip to a place you've always wanted to go, even if it is just an hour or two away from where you are right now. Since the awful elections of 2016 I've gone down all kinds of new roads, and feel the better for it.