Beginnings

This post marks the very beginning of the mucky pups journey. It goes back to the time when the mountains and landscape of Múscraí in Co. Cork captured our hearts, and we knew at once we were home to stay.

beginnings

Many a road we did ramble and roam,

From woodland groves to the sandy sea shore,

To find a small place to call our own home,

And we’d never need to wander no more.

It was the lively, bright season of spring,

When mad March hares bounded feral and free.

A chorus of sweet songs the birds did sing,

From the budding branches of every tree.

We journeyed along on our fateful quest,

Trusting the grey, drifting mist as our guide.

It lured us to the wild lands of the west,

And the rocky slopes of our own hillside.

A steep, spiralled boreen, battered and worn,

Lead us the length of a tight, twisting trail.

Shrouded by holly trees, ash and hawthorn,

A forsaken homestead we did unveil.

Nestled within, on the sparse mountain's edge,

Was a farm dwelling from days long gone by.

Brambles were creeping from the window ledge,

Climbing and crawling to the roof up high.

Inside, was a hearth that was once so warm,

Where folks may have gathered to hear a song.

A welcome shelter from the raging storm,

With music and stories the whole night long.

Wrapped in the silent, enveloping peace,

Beneath the old, wooden rafters we lay.

For a short while the birds’ chirping did cease,

‘Til the night yielded to the break of day.

From woodland groves to the sandy sea shore,

Many a road we did ramble and roam.

We finally found a place to adore.

With our hearts together, our hearts were home.

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