“As I walk the road from Killashandra
Weary I sit down 
For its twelve long miles around the lake
To get to Cavan town
Though Ougher and the road I go
Is a scene beyond compare”- Cavan Girl

On the words of a song and an attempt to avoid the rain, we head to Cavan. The lake country is beautiful. And it is easy to get lost on country roads.

At an abandoned abbey, I wander the ruins in the rain. I walk among the graves and admire the haunting stillness of the lake. Wild swans glide by.

In Cavan town, busy streets play contrast to the rural countryside. I can’t help but smile at the man who set up a “dance with me” booth on the sidewalk. Retro music and silly dance moves brighten a dreary day. But the wild places call.

We head out in search of Clough Oughter Castle. GPS is no help. We follow it to a private drive. No signs. Backtracking down a one lane track, we find the lake. I see a large gathering of swans but no castle. I am ready to give up.

On cue, a car load of locals appear in our isolated location. They show me a gate and a stile. There is a weed covered path at the edge of the lake. I follow. Before me is a castle on an island in the lake. It looks so close, but will remain just out of reach.

Further down the road, Cavan Burren park beckons. It is foggy and misty on the mountain. I walk paths to standing stones, portal tombs, and unusual cairns. The wind whistles and the temperature drops.

Ancient walls and sink holes whisper in the blowing wind. Ancient secrets. New hopes.

“The autumn shades are on the leaves
The trees will soon be bare
And each red-gold leaf reminds me of
The colour of her hair 
My gaze retreats unto my feet
And once again I sigh
For the broken pools of sky remind
The colour of her eyes”