Travel jnl Aran Islands

Growing Rock Walls

I always liked rocks.

Solid. Substantial.

Natural.

You can always count on a rock.

Too bad I wasn’t born in the Aran Islands.

They had so many rocks,

they couldn’t grow anything.

So they grew rock walls.

I can imagine Papa digging the rocks.

Mama designing the walls.

Patrick and Nelly helping haul

stone after stone.

The walls protected the soil.

Seaweed maintained moisture.

Wall by wall, little plots of land became fertile

or kept in horses, sheep and cattle.

We wander through stone-wall labyrinths,

in awe, snapping pictures,

saying hello to a work horse

or disinterested cow.

If you stretched out all the stone walls,

they’d encircle the islands a couple times.

I like rocks, but maybe I would tire of them

if I was born in the Aran Islands.