In The Circle

An interesting outing today. A friend told me about a big aerial event at Tara in Co Meath. An artist, JOHN QUIGLEY, had invited people to come and help form a message by lying on ground on the Hill of Tara, in a carefully orchestrated formation to spell out a message of protest at the decision to run a motorway through Tara Valley, not far from the famous burial site. HARPERS would be there to take part and give musical accompaniment, not to mention the ancient TARA ROYALTY. So, having made sure everything was ok at home, I took the car and headed out on the M50.

When I arrived, I noticed the line of cars had extended almost to the main road. I decided to park behind the last vehicle rather than trying to find a place any nearer. This was a wise choice, as cars were also leaving, which was impossible, since the road was so clotted with parked cars that it was barely a one-way. The mile and a half uphill walk was nice too, the first real exercise I've taken in quite a while.

I am lousy at directions, so I am not sure which side of the hill we congregated on, but the view was fairly spectacular, out across the hazy, level fields of Meath. I had expected everything to be carefully choreographed; for example, we had been directed to dress in white clothes. So I was mildly surprised to find everyone being kept in line by a kind of fuzzy logic, the MAN WITH THE MEGAPHONE (Quigley I presume) doing little more than urge people to lie down or stay in line or WAVE or (as above) clap. This while the CHOPPER with the camera people described generous circles in above our heads.

Rain had been forecast, but it barely made an appearance, just a few fine, mizzling drops. The smell of mown (or cropped) grass, the sense of expectation, the family-picnic-aspect (complete with DOGS), reminded me of the one other large protest I've taken part in, the anti-Iraq War (2) march through Dublin back in 2003(?). There was the same sense of camaraderie, the same feeling of immense good humour, everyone happy to be herded here and there.

I was spoilt for choice photographically, and have added some more links.

I am slightly ashamed to say that this was my first visit to TARA. I must return when there are less people about and get a sense of the place.

I have been to Newgrange though. Here's a little poem I wrote about it, form my recent collection, The Sky Road:

LIGHTBOX
(Newgrange)

Everyone should have one
dark hub for the dull day's orbit:

stoneshouldered wings
where you bury the bones

of belief, and the redfaced sun,
to gain entrance, turns

a skeleton key.