Mad about the buoy
Here’s a story about finding lots of washed up buoys on Trá Bán (Irish for ‘White Strand’) over the years, tying them all to an ailing tree one sunny summer’s day to give the garden a quirky, nautical look and then watch as the winter storms slammed into them, ripped the branches off the tree and, oh dear, now it’s dead.
Not a happy ending.
Shame on me, given the struggles that tree has gone through to survive the elements on this island over the years.
I’ve now tied some to the gate instead and hung some on the barbed wire over the “garden” patch. (Check out the thriving rosemary bush to the right, known as ‘Dew of the Sea.).
As a secret hoarder of these lovely balls of saltiness, maybe it’s time to give them all away to someone who might find a better use for them….like someone who owns a boat…