Tie One On's Note
Wire sang this morning. Not the phone line, not the power, one of mine strung up by hand.
It thrummed like a fiddle bow and carried a word through it: stay.
Can’t say who it was meant for. Could’ve been the wind, could’ve been the lake, could’ve been you.
I’ve left it humming. Best not to interfere when the lines get sentimental.
Orla's Notebook
Excerpt from Dawn Recital #3,
as transcribed by Orla Merrin
(beneath the amber reed horn, tuned to fog-pitch):
Don’t open it yet.
It might be becoming something better
Wishing Log #108: “Where did she go, and did she walk or was she carried?"
A village tradition revived and rewritten
Introduced by Orla Merrin, with commentary by those who dared to wish
“There’s always been a line. First it was string. Then it was twine. Then someone tied a rosary to it, and things began to answer back." Father Horan’s notebook, found behind the font
Found tied with willow bark and a bitter leaf. Wind-creased. Untied by the sixth day.
Orla’s note: “She didn’t take the good shoes. She didn’t need to.
On the longest day of the year, a butterfly named Solin visits an old cottage garden, bringing stillness and a message. A gentle fable of memory, renewal, and quiet belief, this midsummer tale opens the Wishing Line and the magic of Under Lough Owel.
A lyrical journey through a summer garden, The Path of the Pollinator follows a honey bee as it navigates flowers, wind, and wonder. Seen through the eyes of a quiet observer, it celebrates resilience, nature’s rhythms, and the secret magic of a bee’s flight
Glixman celebrates nature’s revival, sensual delight, and spiritual wonder. A prayer of petals and scent, it reminds us why we wish--to feel awe, rebirth, and a liberty that flowers into light.
Added from our
The Wishing Line
Orla's Notebook
I passed the willow today and thought how strange it is that grief leaves no chalk lines. I wished only for the bones back.
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Notice of Intended Relocation
If you follow the Wishing Line past the second alder (the one with the split bark and the thread of red wool tied round), you’ll find the old iron fence bent into a kind of gate. Just beyond that, nailed to the side of the Weathered Post--yes, the one covered in moss and chewing gum--you’ll see the notice fluttering. Don’t look too long at the smudge above it. Some say it moves. |