Mearing Stones: Leaves from My Note-Book on Tramp in Donegal

By Joseph Campbell

"Mearing Stones: Leaves from My Note-Book on Tramp in Donegal" by Joseph Campbell. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Good Press
• Release date: Dec 6, 2019
• ISBN: 4064066235932

Joseph Campbell

Dr. Joseph Campbell has a doctor of ministry degree in Christian Leadership from the Assemblies of God Theological Seminary in Springfield, Missouri. He is the senior pastor of Cross Creek Church in Lebanon, Missouri, and the executive vice president of Intercessory Prayer Ministry International (IPMI). His ministry focuses on equipping, empowering, and releasing people to fulfill their purpose and destiny in God. He and his wife, Caroline, a pediatrician, are the proud parents of two children.

Book preview

Joseph Campbell

Mearing Stones: Leaves from My Note-Book on Tramp in Donegal

Published by Good Press, 2022

[e-mail]

EAN 4064066235932

Table of Contents

DRAWINGS

IN THE MOUNTAINS

THE WANDER-LUST

THE DARK WOMAN

BY LOCHROS BEAG

COACHING BY THE STARS

A RAINBOW

CHANGE

PROPHET’S FOOD

THE TRANSIENT

WOMEN AND HARES

THE SMELL OF THE TOWN

GLENGESH

CLOG-SEED

HERBS AND FLOWERS

A YOUNG GIRL

THE GENERAL LIGHT AND DARK

SOUL AND BODY

A MAN ON SHELTY-BACK

THE FAIRIES

STRANORLAR STATION

STONES

THE STRAND-BIRD

SPACE

RABBITS AND CATS

THE GLAS GAIBHLINN

A HOUSE IN THE ROAD’S MOUTH

THE QUEST

MUCKISH

THE MAY-FIRE

BLOODY FORELAND

TWILIGHT AND SILENCE

THE POOR HERD

A MOUNTAIN TRAMP

THE FESTIVAL OF DEATH

IN GLEN-COLUMCILLE

THE BRINK OF WATER

A DARK MORNING

THE SWALLOW-MARK

WOMEN BEETLING CLOTHES

THE SEA

A BALLAD-SINGER

SUNLIGHT

TURF-CUTTING

HIS OLD MOTHER

A DAY OF WIND AND LIGHT, BLOWN RAIN

LYING AND WALKING

GLEN-COLUMCILLE TO CARRICK

ORA ET LABORA

TWO THINGS THAT WON’T GO GREY

RUNDAL

PÚCA-PILES

THE ROSSES

A COUNTRY FUNERAL

YOUTH AND AGE

SUMMER DUSK

THE PEASANT IN LITERATURE

AN INSLEEP

WATER AND SLÁN-LUS

BY LOCHROS MÓR

RIVAL FIDDLERS

NATURE

SUNDAY UNDER SLIEVE LEAGUE

THE NIGHT HE WAS BORN

THE LUSMÓR

DERRY PEOPLE

A CLOCK

CARRICK GLEN

A SHUILER

TURKEYS IN THE TREES

A PARTY OF TINKERS

TEELIN, BUNGLASS, AND SLIEVE LEAGUE

THE SHOOTING STAR

SUNDAY ON THE ROAD BETWEEN CARRICK AND GLENGESH

A ROANY BUSH

AUGUST EVENING

NEAR INVER

ALL SUBTLE, SECRET THINGS

A MADMAN

LAGUNA

NEAR LETTERKENNY

SHAN MAC ANANTY

A POOR CABIN

THE FLAX-STONE

AFTER SUNSET

THE DARKNESS AND THE TIDE

ERRIGAL

THE SORE FOOT

ASHERANCALLY

ORANGE GALLASES

THE HUMAN VOICE

LOCH ALUINN

THE OPEN ROAD

DRAWINGS

Table of Contents

MEARING STONES

IN THE MOUNTAINS

Table of Contents

"

In

the mountains, says Nietzsche, the shortest way is from summit to summit." That is the way I covered Donegal. Instead of descending into the valleys (a tedious and destroying process at all times), I crossed, like the king of the fairies, on a bridge of wonder:

With a bridge of white mist

Columcille he crosses,

On his stately journeys

From Slieve League to Rosses.

What seems in places in this book a fathomless madhm is in reality bridged over with wonder—dark to the senses here and there, I grant you, but steady and treadable in proportion to the amount of vision one brings to the passage of it. All, I know, will not follow me (the fairies withhold knowledge from the many and bestow it on the few), but if blame is to be given let the fairies get it, and not me. And I may as well warn the reader here that it is unlucky to curse the fairies. Rosses is but a storm’s cry, and—the curse always comes home to roost!

With regard to the pictures illustrating the book, several people who have seen them in the original have criticised their darkness, as if they were all drawn in twilight and eclipse. But the darkness of Donegal was the first thing that struck me when I crossed the frontier at Lifford, and the forty miles’ journey through the hills to Ardara bit the impression still more deeply into me. And if I were asked now after a year’s exile what I remember most vividly of the county, I should say its gloom. I can see nothing now but a wilderness of black hills, with black shadows chasing one another over them, a gleam of water here and there, and just the tiniest little patch of sunlight—extraordinarily brilliant by contrast with the general darkness—on half a field, say, with its mearing-stones, to relieve the sense of tragedy that one feels on looking at the landscape.

THE WANDER-LUST

Table of Contents

Sea-ribbons

have I cut, and gathered ling; talked with fairies; heard Lia Fail moaning in the centre, and seen Tonn Tuaidh white in the north; slept on hearth-flags odd times, and under bushes other times; passed the mill with the scoop-wheels and the