Dog days at the edge of Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Staying Connected Across the Miles

It’s springtime, the sun has come out of hiding, and I want you to come visit. Oh, I know—these days, you can only be a virtual visitor. But now, more than ever, we need to stay connected across the miles.

Take a moment to imagine: Put on your favorite old sweater, the one with a hole in the elbow. Lace up your mud-spattered walking shoes. Pack only your five senses.

Oh, for good measure, toss in your sense of delight. Because we’re off to explore one of Ireland’s most beautiful places. Along the way, I’ve a story to tell you.

To reach Ballyshane, drive south, passing smaller and smaller towns, until you come to a certain crossroads. Yes, that one. Now, thread along ever-narrowing roads, knowing the coast of East County Cork awaits you.

A place for reflection at Ballyshane.
© Joyce McGreevy

Have the hedgerows begun thrumming with birds? Then you’re nearly there. Watch for breaks in the wild shrubbery that glimmer with hints of the sea. At last, you see old stone gates, the color of ripening apricots.

Down the long drive you go. You’re here.

You’re actually only 30 minutes from a city. But Ballyshane is a world all its own.

Which reminds me, I promised you a story.

I was already in isolation when it happened. Not that anyone called it “self-isolating” Back Then. I’d simply returned to Ireland, a place that’s long felt like home, to house-sit for a man who was traveling.

Given the remote location, it meant “social distancing.” Not that anyone called it that Back Then.

A walk feels liberating now.
© Joyce McGreevy

But who could be lonely? I had the companionship of two Irish terriers, and the land, with its 1800s country house, was companionable in its beauty. Beyond the main house  were secluded cottages, among the most popular on Airbnb. Yet I’d been generously granted one all to myself.

Stone cottage, soft sky.
© Joyce McGreevy

In between the homeowner’s travels, there were elegant yet informal gatherings. Touched to be invited, I met new friends. Because this is Ireland, some of the new friends knew some of my old friends. Even if they hadn’t, I’d never have felt lonely. Because in Ireland, conversation is something one savors along with its now-celebrated cuisine.

Storm clouds gather over Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Then it happened.

The “wave” made its way across Europe, and life in Ireland changed utterly. When even the churches closed down, the gravity of the situation sank in.

Suddenly, people around the world were hurrying home or sheltering in place.  Word went out: Wherever you happen to be, stay there. Stay safe, don’t travel.

That year, I’d been all over the map. Three months in Italy. Rambles around world cities. Long days in airports, nights in airport hotels.  When Earth’s globe suddenly stopped spinning, the roulette wheel of my continuous travels could have landed me anywhere.

To my gratitude, I woke up in Ballyshane.

Come, I’ll show you around.

Gardening feels hopeful now.
© Joyce McGreevy

Here are the gardens: raised beds  of rosemary, rhubarb, cardoon, and other organic edibles. The courtyard garden filled with terracotta pots of flowering bulbs. The formal outdoor corridors of box hedge and stone sculpture. The tapestries of tender grasses, daffodils, and bluebells spread under the groves of wind-sculpted trees.

Here come Molly and Rosie, the Irish terriers.

“Good morning, good morning, sweet girls!”
© Joyce McGreevy

They’ve come to take us for a walk. We’ll rove across land that fans out along the coast, then clamber down tufted hillsides where the butter-bright gorse frames the silvery canvas of the sea.

Nature’s quilt at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

We can trot along to the rocky seashore, the girls’ paws picking up the pace the closer we get to the briny scent. Or move stealthily across a field of tall grass, our least step alerting the little birds who forage there. We can watch as they rise in sudden, fluttery clouds.

Speaking of birds, come see the chickens.

“Hello, ladies. Any eggs this morning?”
© Joyce McGreevy

Ah, there’s my favorite. If you’re feeling down, her bandy-legged gait will make you grin—she seems to wear feathery bloomers and pedal a penny-farthing  bicycle.

All day long, there’s satisfying work to do.  At evening, it’s quiet. Time to settle in by the fireplace, to log on, contact friends, family, neighbors, and colleagues around the world.

No filter needed: Sunsets at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

We’re globally, socially distant but imaginatively gathering close together. We talk, laugh, listen, share worries and encouragement. Each virtual visit is an “Oh, I see” moment:  In a time of separation and uncertainty, words weave us back together.

It’s late. One more look at the stars, then we’ll say goodnight. But please visit me here in Ireland any time. We are all virtual travelers now, and I’ll  visit you, too—in California and Italy; Boston and Istanbul; Seattle and Seoul; New Orleans; New Zealand; wherever you are.

Starlight & satellite: Nature and technology keep us connected.
© Joyce McGreevy

Between us, we’ll piece together the patchwork of our perforated days. Between us, we’ll remake the quilt of our shared human experience, the stories that make us whole. Because now, more than ever, we need to stay connected across the miles.

Taking the long view at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Take a virtual tour of the cottages at Ballyshane here and here.

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