Grange Stone Circle, Ireland

Day 18

We drove out of Sixmilebridge through the Cooleycasey district, then on to Limerick. I thought about my grandfather living in these hills, and what his life must have been like. To leave his family and emigrate to America at the age of 18, it must not have been very pretty. Fortunately, places like America existed and peasants had a chance, albeit a remote one, to move up the social ladder and escape a life of ignorance, poverty and injustice. My father was born in Jersey City, New Jersey in 1914. He graduated from St. Johns Law School in 1938. He was the first McInerney to not only graduate from college but to become a lawyer. He practiced law in New York for nearly fifty years, becoming a millionaire in the process. None of this would have been possible had my grandfather remained in Ireland. One flew over the cuckoo's nest. Thanks Dad.

Entering Limerick, we crossed the River Shannon and got a good look at King John's Castle, as well as the cathedral there. We had hoped to visit the Hunt Museum but the traffic and lateness of the day prevented us from doing so, and we decided to come back the next day. We continued into the town of Bruff, where we had reservations at a comfortable B&B located within a former bank that closely resembled a fortress.

After getting our bags unpacked, we hopped back in the car and drove to the nearby stone circle of Grange, the largest (diameter wise) in Ireland. Located on private property, we were allowed access after a small contribution to Tim, the farmer who maintains the grounds. He was also kind enough to direct us to another stone circle in the adjacent field that we might otherwise have overlooked. There was also a huge standing stone a bit further from the main circle that suggests there was a lot of activity in this area at one time.

Thinking back on that day, that visit, I still find myself shaking my head in awe, fascination and mystery. Inside the circle we still had no luck conjuring a vision of the ceremonies that were conducted within these stones. I kept thinking, wishfully of course, that perhaps Carol and I were the ones. The ones who would be granted a glimpse of these ancient rites. To see, like a bird or spirit, the actual events as they transpired in real time, was something we both believed possible. In such places, do the boundaries of reality become less rigid? Could the ancients have known something we don't? Are there places in this world where the boundaries between dimensions are flexible? Is communication between such realms possible? I don't know. But I am willing to consider the possibility. I think as soon as one dismisses such thoughts as lunacy the brain closes off the receptors that allow such experiences to occur. Thought certainly has the power of creation. The universe is perhaps the greatest thought of all. Could these stone circles be portals that once opened to a vast unknown cosmos? Perhaps they functioned like worm holes, activated by chants and harmonic resonating. The older I get the less certain I am of conventional wisdom. Ultimately, anything and everything is possible. What other kind of universe is there beyond, or within, this one?

Walking out of the circle and into the next field we were greeted by numerous cows grazing peacefully on the lush grass. Seeing and smelling their by-products quickly led me to consider another possibility. Perhaps the stone circles were used for mushroom ceremonies. I don't know if cows grazed as they do today but most certainly mushrooms grow in the vicinity. Perhaps an extinct variety had incredible psychedelic properties that, when ingested, provided the participants with such powerful visions that it made constructing all these circles worthwhile. The magical mystery tour of speculation never ends—or will it?