Saint Gobnait, patron saint of bee-keepers in Ireland.

‘The voyage of Saint Gobnait’.

Artist; Kathleen Furey.

One part of the Áras Éanna art installation of 30 painted currachs at the NUIG quadrangle (free to view). This currach is on display, not at NUIG but in the mortuary chapel inside the Galway cathedral. Kathleen Furey has taken inspiration for this work from the stain glass artist, Harry Clarke’s window depicting St. Gobnait, the 6th century female saint from Ballyvourney, County Cork. Saint Gobnait was from county Clare and lived for a time on Inisheer, tge smallest of the Aran islands wher a church ruin is named for her. She sailed to Cork, traversing the river Lee and it’s tributary Sullane, by currach. She had a vision in which she was told by God to found a monastery where she saw a herd of snow-white deer. This happened at Ballyvourney. She was a healer, using honey as a salve, and was revered as patron saint of bees and bee-keepers. When a terrible plague visited the area, killing many in a pandemic, she and her honey saved the locals from infection. Artist Kathleen Furey has featured all these references, so appropriate for today’s pandemic, and incorporated them into her lustrously decorated currach. Well worth a visit to the cathedral to view.

Brian Nolan Walking Tours of Galway

Beware of Michaelmas and Blackberries.

'Don't go eating blackberries after Michaelmas Day because Lucifer spits on them, or even pees on them after that date!

#Michaelmas' which we celebrate on the 29th of September, is the feast-day of the three Archangels, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. (There are actually seven archangels, but we celebrate only 3 or 4 of them usually. They are Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Chamuel (Camael), Raphael, Jophiel, and Zadkiel.

I know, it's confusing, but that's just the way it is.)

'Course Archangel Michael did cast Lucifer into Hell, but he, the big L, gets his revenge each year by spoiling our wild fruits after Michaelmas Day, or so the tradition goes.

"We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.

But when the bath was filled we found a fur,

A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.

The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush,

The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.

I always felt like crying."

#SeamusHeaney

Photos by Brian Nolan

With thanks for the day to Lorraine, and her twitter account @IrishHistorybitesize