The Graveyard Beach
An Cheathrú Rua is situated on a peninsula, and a lot of the time I had there this summer was spent walking. One of my (many) favourite walking destinations was a beach we ended up calling 'The Graveyard Beach', since it was situated next to - unsurprisingly - a graveyard. The first time we walked there was on July 19th, and interestingly, the only sensible thing I was able to note down in my journal that night was that the countryside where I was staying was exceptionally beautiful. This, I think, is a clear indication of how I found the graveyard beach a very striking place.
When I first saw the beach, I was reminded of an entry I wrote earlier this summer, which discussed (of all things) burial places, and where a quote by Jonathan Carroll had me wondering if you could learn a new language after death if you were buried abroad. If such a thing were possible, this graveyard would be the place I would pick: it is one of the most beautifully situated graveyards I have ever seen, positioned as it is facing the sea, and has of course the added bonus of being situated in one of the Irish-speaking districts.
Beside the graveyard there was the ruins of a fifteenth-century church. Only the by now ivy-covered walls remained, but you could still see the ornamented shape of the window. There was never a road going out to this church, so it was reached by sea when it was still in use - or, I suppose, as we did, by clambering over the slick, salt-smelling rocks along the shore line.
The road going down to the beach.
Where the road came down on the beach you would be facing the ocean and have the graveyard on your left.
On the other side of the graveyard was the rocky path to the ruined church.
The church faces the open sea.
It was a windswept place. Just below the branches of the tree can be seen the ferry heading out to the Aran Islands.
Breakers on the shore from the passing boat.
When I first saw the beach, I was reminded of an entry I wrote earlier this summer, which discussed (of all things) burial places, and where a quote by Jonathan Carroll had me wondering if you could learn a new language after death if you were buried abroad. If such a thing were possible, this graveyard would be the place I would pick: it is one of the most beautifully situated graveyards I have ever seen, positioned as it is facing the sea, and has of course the added bonus of being situated in one of the Irish-speaking districts.
Beside the graveyard there was the ruins of a fifteenth-century church. Only the by now ivy-covered walls remained, but you could still see the ornamented shape of the window. There was never a road going out to this church, so it was reached by sea when it was still in use - or, I suppose, as we did, by clambering over the slick, salt-smelling rocks along the shore line.
The road going down to the beach.
Where the road came down on the beach you would be facing the ocean and have the graveyard on your left.
On the other side of the graveyard was the rocky path to the ruined church.
The church faces the open sea.
It was a windswept place. Just below the branches of the tree can be seen the ferry heading out to the Aran Islands.
Breakers on the shore from the passing boat.