Latest news with #Burren
Irish Times
03-08-2025
- Politics
- Irish Times
The Irish Times view on funding for nature: not an optional extra
Two developments, one national and one at EU level, have caused legitimate alarm and anger among environmental NGOs. They regard them both as 'gutting' commitments to green measures at the very moment when we should be supporting the development of coherent nature recovery plans under the flagship Nature Restoration Law. It is understandable that such measures slip down the priority list, given the multiple challenges our societies are facing. But this is not acceptable. The existential threats of climate change and biodiversity collapses remain. So it is disturbing that the European Commission's proposal for its next budget indicates that the EU Life Programme – the dedicated fund for environment, nature and climate action – is likely to be repealed. Life's proven return on investment can be seen in many Irish rural communities, exemplified by the Burren Programme. 'It would gut one of the EU's most effective tools just when we need it most,' according to the European Environmental Bureau, which represents 190 member organisations and 30 million individual supporters. It should be listened to. READ MORE Meanwhile, the Environmental Pillar, the national platform for environmental charities, uses similar language to describe the Government's revised National Development Plan: 'the gutting of nature from the Infrastructure, Climate & Nature Fund to finance transport, energy and water infrastructure projects in the National Development Plan is very alarming' the group says, as it undermines guarantees on nature restoration. It certainly seems to make nonsense of the current consultations on developing and implementing the National Nature Restoration Plan with farmers, fishers and environmentalists. Funding for this plan is naturally a key concern for all involved, and if it is not ring-fenced it will inevitably shift to areas of more immediate concern. We cannot continue to consider the health of our natural landscape and climate as an optional extra in planning; if it does not inform the core of our thinking, everything else is undermined.
The 42
22-06-2025
- Sport
- The 42
1-7 for Shane Walsh as Galway edge a stone-cold classic in Newry to make quarter-final
Galway 2-5-16 (32) Down 3-4-13 (30) GALWAY JUST ABOUT done enough against a superb Down challenge to book their place in next weekend's All-Ireland quarter-finals. When it looked like Down were about to pass them out completely, a goal from Tomo Culhane when he grasped a loose ball spilled by Peter Cooke put them into a strong position going down the stretch, enough to survive a Ryan Magill goal with time ticking out. Down went in at the break ten points down with a strong breeze not helping their case, but hit two two-point scores immediately after the restart to set up a nerve-shredding second half. With his final contribution, Shane Walsh swung over a two-point free with his left foot before departing the scene, and his fitness will be of huge concern. The contribution of Peter Cooke was crucial to claiming some authority on the kickout in the second half, the big Moycullen man providing a serious presence after being introduced. Odhran Murdoch and Magill goaled in the last ten minutes for Down, who will rue some simple chances missed. More to follow…. Scorers for Galway: Shane Walsh 1-7 (1-0, 2 x 2point frees, 1 x 2 point), Robert Finnerty 0-6 (0-1f, 1 x 2point), Matthew Thompson 0-5 (1 x 2point), Tomo Culhane 1-0, Matthew Tierney, Daniel O'Flaherty, Cillian McDaid 0-2 each, Cein Darcy, Peter Cooke 0-1 each. Advertisement Scorers for Down: Odhran Murdoch 1-2, Daniel Guinness 0-4 (2 x 2points), John McGeogh 1-1, Ryan Magill 1-0, Danny Magill, Caolan Mooney 0-2 each, Miceál Rooney 0-2 (1 x 2point), Ryan McEvoy 0-2 (1 x 2point), Pat Havern 0-2 (2f), Ceilum Doherty, Eugene Branagan 0-1 each, Adam Crimmins 0-1 (1f) Galway 1. Conor Flaherty (Claregalway) 2. Johnny McGrath (Caherlistrane) 3. Seán Fitzgerald (Bhearna) 4. Liam Silke (Corofin) 5. Dylan McHugh (Corofin) 6. Seán Kelly (Moycullen) 7. Cian Hernon (Bhearna) 8. Paul Conroy (St James') 9. John Maher (Salthill-Knocknacarra) 10. Cein Darcy (Ballyboden) 11. Matthew Tierney (Oughterard) 12. Cillian McDaid (Monivea Abbey) 13. Robert Finnerty (Salthill Knocknacarra) 14. Shane Walsh (Kilmacud) 15. Matthew Thompson (Knocknacarra) Subs: 22. Peter Cooke (Moycullen) for Conroy (47 mins) 20. Daniel O'Flaherty (Salthill Knocknacarra) for Hernon (56 mins) 25. Johnny Heaney (Killannin) for McDaid (61 – 69 mins) 24. Tomo Culhane (Salthill Knocknacarra) for Walsh (62 mins) 21. John Daly (Mountbellew-Moylough) for Maher (67 mins) Down 1. Ronan Burns (Drumgath) 2. Patrick McCarthy (Burren) 3. Peter Fegan (Burren) 4. Ceilum Doherty (Kilcoo) 5. Ryan Magill (Burren) 6. Peirce Laverty (Saul) 7. Miceál Rooney (Kilcoo) 8. Daniel Guinness (Carryduff) 9. Ryan McEvoy (Kilcoo) 10. Danny Magill (Burren) 11. Odhran Murdock (Burren) 21. Adam Crimmins (Mayobridge) 13. James Guinness (Carryduff) 14. Pat Havern (Saval) 15. John McGeogh (Carryduff) Subs: Related Reads 3-7 for David Clifford as Kerry beat Cavan to advance to All-Ireland quarter-finals 'For us, it's 68 years, so the people were allowed that' - Sam Mulroy loads up again 'Just a special talent' - 20 years on from Galway's 'Terrible Twins' brilliance in All-Ireland final 12. Eugene Branagan (Kilcoo) for Crimmins (22-27 mins) 23. Caolan Mooney (Downpatrick) for McGeogh (53 mins) 22. Oisín Savage (Loughinisland) for Doherty (57 mins) 26. Conor McCrickard (Liatroim) for Crimmins (61 mins) 24. Finn Murdock (Rostrevor) for Rooney (66 mins)
Irish Times
16-06-2025
- Lifestyle
- Irish Times
From tourist cliché to elegant emblem: Stable puts a modern, romantic twist on the shamrock
Since its launch in 2016 for the centenary of the Easter Rising, Stable of Ireland's tricolour scarf, a new take on the familiar green, white and orange of the national flag, has become one of the company's enduring best sellers. The subtle tones of the design – green seaweeds of Donegal , deep orange montbretia (known in the west as the back-to-school flower) and grey limestone of the Burren – were specially chosen to reflect the wild Irish landscape. Now Sonia Reynolds and Frances Duff , founders of Stable, have turned their attention to another cherished Irish national emblem – the shamrock. With their signature play on the familiar, they have thrust the shamrock into another limelight with a capsule collection of classic pieces embellished with bold and vibrant images of the much-loved trefoil, giving it a whole new look. It's the culmination of four years' work. 'We had been playing with versions and ideas of what we might do in various forms and materials,' they say. The word shamrock comes from the Irish seamróg, meaning young clover. Associated with St Patrick, who used the shamrock to explain the Holy Trinity, its significance grew into a broader emblem of Irish identity. The tradition of wearing it on St Patrick's Day dates back to the early 1700s, and became widespread in the 19th century. READ MORE Stable are using it in fresh and unexpected new ways. 'It's about trying to have some fun and give back some style, elegance and creativity to the shamrock,' says Duff. [ Fashion's future stars: Student designers create playful, sustainable collections Opens in new window ] She and Reynolds have been intrigued for a long time by the idea of doing something with the age-old Irish image. 'It has been hijacked as a tourist-driven symbol of Ireland, and that was a challenge from our point of view.' Small shamrock green silk dress, €680 Small shamrock top in green, €320 Small shamrock print orange silk dress, €680 Small shamrock skirt in green, €320 Abstract shamrock print green silk dress, €680 The pieces in summery silk satin consist of a top, skirt and dress, accessorised with matching belts and scarves in two print patterns – abstract and small – in three colour ways. In researching various textile patterns they worked with a long-standing friend – the textile designer Peter Westcott, who has an extensive 19th and 20th century print and textile archive in the UK. They finally selected a shamrock print from the 1920s. All the garments are framed with contrasting stripes – vertical on the dress and tops, horizontal on the skirts – creating a visual playfulness. The dress pattern was designed to be generous in shape and elegant, based on a kaftan style, and comfortable to wear open or belted. The top is a short version of the dress, and the skirt is A-line with an elasticated waist. Belts double up as scarves or headbands. 'We wanted to keep it simple,' says Reynolds, as she folds up all the items into a tiny lightweight pile to demonstrate how they easily pack for summer travel. 'It's about wearable pieces that can take you anywhere.' Prices start at €320 for tops and skirts, €680 for dresses, from and in store, Stable at Westbury Mall. Photographer Gina Crighton; model Lily Lyons; hair and make up @nikkiwhelenartist; accessories by Cristina @vintagecristina.
Irish Times
28-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- Irish Times
Ripeness by Sarah Moss: A captivating novel about the unwritten codes of Irish social interaction
Ripeness Author : Sarah Moss ISBN-13 : 978-1529035490 Publisher : Picador Guideline Price : £20 Have you no homes to go to? The line once used by Irish bar staff to clear a crowded pub at the end of an evening has a more unsettling ring in the modern age. What if you have no home to go to? What if you are not overly keen on going home? What if 'home' gets defined by someone else and not by you? Sarah Moss's latest novel, Ripeness, is, among other things, an extended meditation on what home or belonging might mean in a period of disruption and displacement. The narrative shifts between 73-year-old Edith, who has settled in the Burren, and her 17-year-old self, who ends up in a villa near Lake Como dealing with her sister Lydie's unwanted pregnancy. Edith and Lydie are the daughters of a French Jewish mother married to a northern English farmer. Edith inherits from her father an acute sensitivity to the changing moods of the landscape and from her mother – lost in the aftershadow of the Holocaust – an innate scepticism about the permanence of any form of belonging. Moss perfectly judges the prickly absolutism of the younger Edith, on her way to Oxford, a bookish teenager dealing with events in a foreign land that fast-track her to adulthood. Some of the most affecting pages in the novel describe the burgeoning sense of care she feels for her newborn nephew in the days before he is taken away for adoption, the carefully orchestrated outcome of the catastrophic circumstances surrounding his conception. READ MORE The older Edith memorably combines a clear-sighted forthrightness with the sarky petulance of advancing years ('we had a wireless at home but no record player, none of us feeling a need for music. It was only later that everyone started to have a taste in music, as if it were food or clothes, no opting out'). As an English woman in Ireland, Edith is continually aware of the trip wires of reproach, the random observation that is chalked up to colonial condescension or the accent that potentially makes any critical comment a hostage to the high-horsiness of empire. Forty years of married life in south Dublin and her subsequent move to the west of Ireland make for a long apprenticeship in the unwritten codes of Irish social interaction, where she notes 'friendliness isn't friendship'. Continually navigating the uncertainty of home and belonging is, as Sarah Moss's beguiling tale reminds us, an important skill Edith's northern English plain-speaking continually runs aground on the island shores of the unsaid and the unspoken. Questions around assimilation and integration come to a head when Méabh, Edith's closest friend, becomes involved in a local protest against the provision of accommodation for asylum seekers. This event coincides with the imminent reunion between Méabh and a newly discovered half-brother from the United States, another victim of an unwanted teenage pregnancy, having many years earlier been spirited off to the US for adoption. Edith contrasts the ready acceptance of the half-brother – who has never set foot in Ireland – as being of the place, with the rejection of the young asylum seekers – who actually live on the island – as having no right to be there. [ Sarah Moss: Irish dog-walkers are kinder than English dog-walkers Opens in new window ] Lying in bed with her German lover, Gunter, she wants 'another immigrant to agree that national identity isn't genetic, that blood doesn't give you rights of ownership'. To an ageing Edith, the malign legacies of blood-and-soil thinking are evidence not only of the dangers of forgetting but also of the foreclosure of possibility, the denial that newcomers have the regenerative capacity to 'belong by caring for people and places'. Moss's writing has always been characterised by its range, and the latest novel does not disappoint. Whether describing the shift of the northern Italian landscape from summer to autumn, the granular changes of light on a wet day in Clare, or the brittle exchanges between two damaged siblings, Moss's prose is unfailingly spare and alert. The images are often arresting: 'a bowl of brassy dimpled pears'. Equally, they are telling in their unfussy accuracy, such as when she evokes spring in the Burren, 'its tiny flowering in the crevices and rain-cups of sedimentary rock, in the pinprick markings of the planet's bone'. Part of the attraction of this captivating novel is Moss's curiosity about different ways of knowing. How the world looks through the lens of a different language – French or Italian, in this instance – and how you try to build another version of yourself in that language while foxed by the snares of grammar and idiom. Or how differently the world is felt and understood when it is measured out in steps, twists, turns and leaps, as is the case with Lydie and her ballet-dancer friends. The ripeness of the title comes from Edith's reading of King Lear . She contrasts Hamlet's insistence on readiness, on the triumph of the will, with Edgar's 'ripeness is all', which stresses how much is out of our hands, how much happens 'regardless of agency or volition'. Continually navigating the uncertainty of home and belonging is, as Sarah Moss's beguiling tale reminds us, an important skill if, in our fractious age, last orders are not to give way to last rites. Michael Cronin is Professor of French at Trinity College Dublin
Irish Times
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Sarah Moss: ‘I'm a classic first child. A driven overachiever. Slightly neurotic'
How agreeable are you? You'd have to ask my family, but I think I'm fairly agreeable. I'd like to think I know which battles are worth fighting. What is your middle name and what do you think of it? My middle name is Kelly. It's actually my grandmother's maiden name. She was of Irish descent. Her father came over to Yorkshire in the late 19th century ... Nobody has ever called me Kelly. What is your favourite place in Ireland? The Burren. I encountered it for the first time when I was speaking at the Ennis Book Club Festival in March 2020, before we moved over to Ireland. Somebody came up to me at the book signing and said, 'Have you ever been to the Burren because from reading your books I think you'd really like it.' I said I hadn't, but that I'd always wanted to. She looked at her friend and said, 'Well, my friend and I go there every Saturday. Are you doing anything this afternoon?' I said I was flying out of Shannon at around six, and she said, 'Ah, sure, we'll get you back to Shannon by then.' So I just went off in a car with these two women I'd never met before, and we had an amazing adventure in the Burren. We did some hiking, they showed me a holy well and a ruined hermitage, and that amazing limestone landscape. As I was flying back through Birmingham that evening, lockdown happened, everything shut down, and that was the end of that for another few years. So it was absolutely the last moment I could have gone off in a car with two strangers and had a wonderful afternoon. I go to the Burren as often as I can – and those two women are now two of my closest friends in Ireland. Describe yourself in three words I was thinking about this. In the first piece I wrote for The Irish Times, I described myself as a bike-riding vegetarian feminist. So, yes, a bike-riding vegetarian feminist. I think they can put that on my gravestone. READ MORE When did you last get angry? A very long time ago. I'd have been in primary school, although I don't think I was much given to tantrums. I don't really do anger. Except when I'm on my bike and drivers nearly kill me, and then I get very uninhibited. I think I get angry only on my bike. What have you lost that you would like to have back? The confidence of my 20s. I think quite often, and probably as we get older, we become less sure about things. There's nobody so certain as a teenager, and I slightly miss that absolute conviction. I'm sure that I'm a kinder, gentler, and better person for not having that, but it made life very straightforward. Quite often, teenagers are right about things, albeit in a completely inexperienced kind of way. For most people, we've discovered the world is a bit more complicated than we thought; things aren't quite as black and white to us. What is your strongest childhood memory? Climbing mountains, mostly in the Lake District. I grew up in Manchester. My parents were very enthusiastic hikers, so they would collect us from school on a Friday, drive up to the mountains, and then we camped wild over the weekend. More than once, we woke up very early on Monday morning and were dropped back to school straight from the hills. Where do you come in your family's birth order, and has this defined you? I'm the oldest. How has it defined me? I'm a classic first child. A driven overachiever. Slightly neurotic. What do you expect to happen when you die? There's a Yorkshire folk song I used to sing with my grandfather – On Ilkla Moor Baht'at, and a line from it goes 'then the worms will come and eat you up ...' It is best belted out in a Yorkshire accent with your grandfather while driving across Yorkshire. Nobody knows what's going to happen, do they? When were you happiest? I'm pretty happy these days, but there's no absolute measure of happiness, is there? I now live in a place I really love. I have good friends within walking distance, and my kids are doing well. There is a reasonable level of contentment within my life. Globally, clearly not, but I'm turning 50 later this year, and I think that could also be a good time. Which actor would play you in a biopic about your life? I was going to look up actors, but I forgot. Morven Christie reads my audiobooks so beautifully with the right accents and tones, so let's go with her. What is your biggest career/personal regret? It's not really a regret, but I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gone straight into academia, because at this point in my life, I've been on one end or the other of full-time education without a break since I was four. I have a strange idea that I might have been quite good in the emergency services, as I'm very good in a crisis. Personal regret? No, because you always learn from it. Have you any psychological quirks? How long have you got? I like rhythmic things – running, knitting , sewing, walking. Anything that's involved with iambic, heartbeat footsteps, I find very comforting. In conversation with Tony Clayton-Lea Sarah Moss's new book, Ripeness, is published by Pan Macmillan
