A couple of days ago I went up to the Hill of Slane and was amazed at how beautiful it was. So much so, that, I decided to go back to the Hill of Slane at night and I gotta say, it was even nicer than I had hoped. It was beautifully lit from a distance and even better the closer I got.
As I was walking up the hill, I was composing the photographs in my head, cameras slung over my back, tripod in my hand and thinking to myself, “yeah, I like those rocks over there, I’ll try and get them into the foreground of some of the wide angle shots.” I thought it strange that here I was in the pitch black and I was able to notice rocks, yet a few days ago I never noticed them.
Stuck in the middle with Moo!
All became very clear, very soon when a few of those “rocks” got up, walked towards me and started to Moo! I nearly left a cow-pat of my own right there and then! I was exactly halfway between the ruins at the Hill of Slane and my car and I was left wondering do I go on or do I run like hell back to my car. I decided to man-up and continue gingerly up the hill. When I was about three-quarters way up I thought to myself, “what if there’s a bull in here with me?!?” Needless to say, my gingerly pace turned into a trot. When I got to the wall of the ruins I closed the gate and got cracking on taking photos, forgetting all about my bovine interaction. That was until I heard some movement quite close to me and then some more of those unmerciful moo’s from those Mad Cows again.
Halfway through the shoot I realised that an off camera flash would’ve been beneficial. It was, of course, back in the car. After a little debate in my head, I mustered up some courage and headed back to the car to get the flash, all the while humming (in the tune of that Stealers Wheel song, Stuck in the Middle With You) “Cows to the left of me, More cows to my right; stuck in the middle with Moo.
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In BCE do you know when the Royal Arch Druid Amergin spoke this Incantation at the Hill of Tara? I am the wind on the seaAm gaeth i m-muirI am the stormy waveAm tond trhatenI am the sound of the oceanAm fuaim mara I am the bull with seven hornsAm dam secht ndirendI am the hawk on the cliff faceAm se9ig i n-aillI am the sun’s tearAm de9r gre9neI am the beautiful flowerAm cain lubaikwsigmaI am the boar on the rampageAm torc ar gailI am the salmon in the poolAm he i l-lindI am the lake on the plainAm loch i m-maigI am the defiant wordAm bred a ndaiI am the spear charging into battleAm bri i fodb fras feochtu I am the god who put fire in your headAm de9 delbas do chind codnuWho made the trails through stone mountainsCoiche nod gleith clochur sle9beWho knows the age of the moonCia on co tagair aesa e9scaiWho knows where the setting sun restsCia du i l-laig fuiniud gre9ne Who took the cattle from the house of the warcrowCia beir buar o thig tethrachWho pleases the warcrow’s cattleCia buar tethrach tibiWhat bull, what god created the mountain skylineCia de1m, cia de9 delbas faebru a ndind ailsiuThe cutting word, the cold wordCe1inte im gai, cainte gaithe