Aleria's Adventures

I wait for this day every year. For months, it has been getting darker, and noticeably accelerating. For a writer, this is not a terrible thing, as it means there are fewer distractions. I do not feel compelled to go outside after say 1530 when the sun has already sunk behind the hills and the loss of daylight is looming shortly. Last year, for the first time, I suffered a bout of depression through this period. All through the Fall I felt myself sinking into a depth from which it felt increasingly difficult to crawl out. This year, a whole different sense was about me. I started looking forward to Christmas and the Winter Solstice knowing that it was the turning point to another exciting year -- a year of promise and hope of accomplishments in business and adventures in sailing. Then I realized that something even bigger was happening. I realized that not only had I crawled out of the hole, I had scaled a mountain.  I found light and an understanding in the pagan sense that one mu

Stonehenge and Achill-henge. Image (c) by Alex Blackwell. Two years ago, Joe McNamara, one time developer and native of Achill, Ireland's largest island, frustrated by the rise and fall of Ireland's economy known as the Celtic Tiger, launched a mysterious plot. By the light of the moon on a cold Friday 25 November 2011, 30 trucks arrived on Achill carrying loads of concrete and building materials. They carried the materials up the hills onto commonage lands high above the village of Pollagh, obscured from direct view from roads and homes. By Sunday evening, under the cover of darkness, they had constructed a structure soon after dubbed Achill-henge. Walking up the muddy road soon after the construction.