 |
| photo: Cullenagh Stables |
This is the blog page for Greenway Equestrian at Cullenagh Stables. To view our website, please click on the following link
Sunday, August 20, 2017
CROSS COUNTRY
Hope you enjoy!
Saturday, August 5, 2017
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Tuesday, April 25, 2017
Across The Seasons
 |
| Show season and the grooming kit is out image courtesy of Gillian Corcoran |
 |
| Nip In The Air |
 |
| Spring Colours |
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Out and About!
 |
| pic: Gillian Corcoran |
 |
| pic: Julie Lennon |
 |
| pic: Cullenagh Stables |
 |
| pic: Stephanie Sweeney |
Friday, February 10, 2017
Tuesday, February 7, 2017
Spa Well at Gorthaclode
The ancient spa well at Gorthaclode fringes the farm. Before doing our homework, we had wondered why there are pools of warm water at different spots along the River Dawn. Their use can be traced back to the days when horses and carts lined the High Road and pilgrims immersed themselves in the healing spring water. The following is a poetic account of those days:
(Via Cartophile's Log)
Do truths find their way home? Are there imprints left behind from centuries before, when smoke and steel drove paths beneath amaranthine skies, through rolling forests ablaze with oranges and golds? The spa well spills its secrets into the pools of colour collecting in the millrace and along the weir and in the trout streams.
In the shadow of a blasting furnace, iron water was collected by the bucketload and pilgrims soaked in the chalybeate spring. The Gorthaclode Spa was hailed as miraculous before events and circumstance dissolved a ritual into history and stories were hidden in the rivers and streams.
Does a landscape summon its stories home? Does an element return to its source over and over?
Sitting along a pathway at Gorthaclode are wagons loaded with steel as they wait patiently for an old railroad to return to life. Sharing a history with the crystalline rock birthed in the soil and pulled home by the lodestone buried in the hills, is this celestial metal merely finding its way home and are we merely the transporters?
© 2017 Evie Connolly
(Via Cartophile's Log)
Do truths find their way home? Are there imprints left behind from centuries before, when smoke and steel drove paths beneath amaranthine skies, through rolling forests ablaze with oranges and golds? The spa well spills its secrets into the pools of colour collecting in the millrace and along the weir and in the trout streams.
In the shadow of a blasting furnace, iron water was collected by the bucketload and pilgrims soaked in the chalybeate spring. The Gorthaclode Spa was hailed as miraculous before events and circumstance dissolved a ritual into history and stories were hidden in the rivers and streams.
Does a landscape summon its stories home? Does an element return to its source over and over?
Sitting along a pathway at Gorthaclode are wagons loaded with steel as they wait patiently for an old railroad to return to life. Sharing a history with the crystalline rock birthed in the soil and pulled home by the lodestone buried in the hills, is this celestial metal merely finding its way home and are we merely the transporters?
© 2017 Evie Connolly
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Sunday, January 8, 2017
The week we joined the Gypsies
Historic Saintes Marie de la Mer is the sacred festive ground for the annual veneration of Saint Sara, saint of the nomadic peoples. This little seaside town in the Camargue region of Provence, France welcomes pilgrims from the four corners of Europe and beyond to venerate the Black Sara during the last week of May each year as well as the Sunday closest to October 22nd.
Romanies, Manouches, Travellers, Tziganes and Gitans fill the streets with music and colour, culminating in the procession to the sea on foot and horseback to celebrate the arrival by sea of three very important saints who are deeply embedded in the life of Saint Sara - they are Mary Magdalene, Mary Salome and Mary of Clopas.
The bearers go into the sea to symbolize the arrival of the Marys. Some stories tell of Sara seeing the Marys arrive by boat. The sea was rough, and the boat threatened to founder. Mary Salome threw her cloak on the waves and, using it as a raft, Sarah floated towards the Saints and helped them reach land by praying. Other stories tell of Sara being a collector of alms who worked for the Three Marys.
After blessings and to the accompaniment of music and the set of bells, the Procession returns to the church. Later that day, there is a ceremony of bringing the reliquaries back up to the 'High Chapel'.
Violins, guitars, dance and singsong light up the evenings at Saintes Maries de la Mer. A multitude of small candles are lit during the festival and children held up in front of the statues as prayers are recited.
The music, colour, artistry and reverence contained within the celebrations reflect the spirit of the nomadic peoples, eternal pilgrims on the world's roads (many are fervent travellers of El Camino de Santiago). Indeed, within the world of art and literature, the Gypsy has for centuries represented the artist's nomadic soul, their connection with the spirit world and their resistance to imposed boundaries and materialism.
This free spiritedness undoubtedly attracted the attention of writers and artists such as Hemingway and Picasso who were visitors to Saintes Maries de la Mer. The painter Augustus John fell in love with Provence, which he claimed "had been for years the goal of my dreams" as he did with the Gypsy and Romany culture. John relinquished much of his worldly pleasures to pursue a nomadic lifestyle and learn the Romany language.
Taking the sturdy Camargue ponies through the wetlands of Provence and along the streets of Saintes Maries de la Mer, hatless (unrecommended, though understandably in keeping with an ancient tradition), there was the feeling of physical and spiritual freedom - the boundariless domain of the nomad and the artist.
Romanies, Manouches, Travellers, Tziganes and Gitans fill the streets with music and colour, culminating in the procession to the sea on foot and horseback to celebrate the arrival by sea of three very important saints who are deeply embedded in the life of Saint Sara - they are Mary Magdalene, Mary Salome and Mary of Clopas.
The bearers go into the sea to symbolize the arrival of the Marys. Some stories tell of Sara seeing the Marys arrive by boat. The sea was rough, and the boat threatened to founder. Mary Salome threw her cloak on the waves and, using it as a raft, Sarah floated towards the Saints and helped them reach land by praying. Other stories tell of Sara being a collector of alms who worked for the Three Marys.
After blessings and to the accompaniment of music and the set of bells, the Procession returns to the church. Later that day, there is a ceremony of bringing the reliquaries back up to the 'High Chapel'.
Violins, guitars, dance and singsong light up the evenings at Saintes Maries de la Mer. A multitude of small candles are lit during the festival and children held up in front of the statues as prayers are recited.
The music, colour, artistry and reverence contained within the celebrations reflect the spirit of the nomadic peoples, eternal pilgrims on the world's roads (many are fervent travellers of El Camino de Santiago). Indeed, within the world of art and literature, the Gypsy has for centuries represented the artist's nomadic soul, their connection with the spirit world and their resistance to imposed boundaries and materialism.
This free spiritedness undoubtedly attracted the attention of writers and artists such as Hemingway and Picasso who were visitors to Saintes Maries de la Mer. The painter Augustus John fell in love with Provence, which he claimed "had been for years the goal of my dreams" as he did with the Gypsy and Romany culture. John relinquished much of his worldly pleasures to pursue a nomadic lifestyle and learn the Romany language.
Taking the sturdy Camargue ponies through the wetlands of Provence and along the streets of Saintes Maries de la Mer, hatless (unrecommended, though understandably in keeping with an ancient tradition), there was the feeling of physical and spiritual freedom - the boundariless domain of the nomad and the artist.
 |
| Encampment at Dartmouth by Augustus John |
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)