It happened when the day was almost in. The light was in her waning already when the beams of the sun were radiating the neighbourhood in a golden shine.
Step by step the buzz of the day was slowing down to the background. In a field, higher up on one of the terraces, a cow was mooing softly, probably reassuring her calf. There was a bit of commotion already among the birds nearby, while they were finding and refinding their proper place on the electric wire for the coming night.
In many ways it had been a perfect day. One, I only can dream of. In the early morning there was a lovely sun dawn. A nice day was promised. And this promise became true….
A lot of people had been on the move. Not only people from Inis Meáin itself were on the road but from the Mainland and even beyond as well. From all sides I heard different tongues spoken and people were coming along the road, passing, and sometimes stopping to come in for a cup of tea and a chat. There were also people coming in with the intention of just having a look insight in what once was…the little shop run by Cáit and the post office where , while you were sitting on the little stone wall opposite the house, waiting for your post to be handed out personally. Only crossing the threshold many memories became vivid again for the people who remembered… And many lovely and thrilling stories originating from long ago, were told, may be even for the first time.
And then…while I was busy getting in the few tables and chairs from the little garden, there was a modest cough behind me. An elderly man straight and upright came in, well determined and asked for a meal. I am sure , whatever I would have answered what I could offer, he would have stayed. After his meal he confessed me the reason why he came in…it was the buailte or dot, above the g of tigh and c of Cháit written on the front door!
In former days, this dot was generally used instead of the h, which was taught later on.
Slán go fóill,
Elisabeth from Inis Meáin.
VISIT INIS MEÁIN THIS SPRING. CLICK HERE