As the crisp air blows down the rocky hills and shadows creep on across Western walls of leaning stones, the great Celtic Pilgrimage finds itself in the home stretch.

The Westies of the Wild Irish West Tours came to Ireland visitors -- some returning, some new -- with a specific focus in mind: to tap into Irish…

The oratory of St. Colman echoes with hundreds upon hundreds of years worth of worshipful memory.

In a secluded glade of ancient trees nestled against the breast of the Burren, a landscape so surreal and old it seems the surface of a planet in a galaxy far, far away, the ruins of yet another holy structure keep…

To fully experience the Celtic spirit, one must embrace not only the essence of a pilgrim, but also the land the pilgrim walks upon.

Places such as Galway's Brigit's Garden are sacred keepers of beloved earthly traditions. A calendar year in the form of gardens lovingly corralled by their keepers, the Garden…

All Souls Night. A time of bonfires bursting to life beneath a cloudy sky. The grass wet from late Autumn mists that tumble haphazardly down the mountainsides as if driven by reckless celestial abandon. The soft moan of wind as it rushes through the caverns and craggy hills, meeting the water trickling into emerald…

There is poetry written into this land. Much like there is poetry written into the Irish soul. Poetry is not, as many think, a pretty art of whimsy and folly. Poetry, more oft than not, is the rawest and freest means of expression a person can have. I have always written poetry, but I began writing it…

The ritual of cleansing oneself with water to begin anew is an old one.

From the seemingly simple act of taking a shower to the tradition of baptising a baby, water is seen as a nurturing source of life and a cyclical element. Its passage through the world, be it fresh or saltwater, is a constant variable…

There is something deeply engrained in our makeup as a species to seek out our roots. To water them with knowledge and expressively branch out into the universe with greater understanding. To discover what makes us grow. We are constantly reaching for the stars, the skies, the freedom to be and encompass all we…

Lights of Boston trail away,

wisps on winds born of steely birds

which skim the oceans with shadows stray

and bring with them one thousand words.

Soft chime the bells of sojourn's song,

Through leaves aflame in glorious hue,

Far be it from me to to wonder long

And wander on cosmic cue.

The curtain call of Autumn's end

In her one last elegant bow,'

Gestures on to something…

“As for believing things, I can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible.” – Oscar Wilde

Well, I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t believe it. My belief is suspended on a wire made of…

Now I am in the public-house and lean upon the wall,

So come in rags or come in silk, in cloak or country shawl,

And come with learned lovers or with what men you may,

For I can put the whole lot down, and all I have to say

Is fol de rol de rolly O. – Yeats.

                It’s probably a wince-worthy cliché to begin with a Yeats, but I feel that I must. The songs of Ireland have long since compelled me to dance to their rhythm; the fluting of Yeats and…