Ten Things I Learned from Holly

Holly sleeping...awww

It's Friday evening. That's always a good thing of course, a bonus. End of the working week and all for us Monday to Friday people. It never shuts the brain off really though, does it? I generally find that it takes a good dinner, good company and the promise of an easy Saturday to really switch over, even if that is after an incessant rant while concocting the Friday night dinner creation.

Tonight however, I am feeling particularly sorry for myself - never a good thing! It's a mixture of the usual stuff - worn out from the intensity of the demands placed on my shoulders by others during the week, trying to protect the interests of the human and non-human colleagues (that'll be the inhabitants of the wetlands and woodlands outside the window ;)) And biggest of all - I am a widow to the job that has the dearest person in the world to me videoing some conference or other in a fancy hotel in Dublin. Sigh.

And so I am home alone with the dog. And as soon as I write these words, I can't but smile :)

Holly was an idea in our minds for about a year before she came to us. We had already bought and moved into Holly Cottage, and she is (imaginatively I know) named for the name of the cottage. For years I had been wanting to have a dog in my life - somedog to accompany me on those long and solitary fieldwork sessions up the backs of mountains and down the banks of rivers. We always had a dog when I was growing up on the farm in Cappaduff. At one stage we had two, but for the most time it was one of a succession of small terriers - Brandy, Jack, Brownie...further imaginative names like those ;) For me the dog had the same value as a brother or sister, and even one of the many cats that passed through my childhood world. My favourite memories from that time are the days and evenings walking the fields with Brownie, hunting rabbits. That's what I called it, but really it was where the rabbit or hare would run one way and Brownie was invariably so confused and excited that he would run in completely the wrong direction. Such fun times! One evening we had a surreal encounter with a lonely, somewhat ghost-like fox...more on that another time. Back to Holly.

Holly is a golden cocker spaniel. We decided two years ago - while in recovery from another long week and a late Friday night that we would finally give in to responsibility, and get a puppy. Classic young couple move - all the rest of it, you can write the book on it. Anyway, after much debate and tooing and frooing on websites, we found Holly and her siblings just an hour's drive away and ready and waiting for a suitable home to bring her to. There was eight or nine puppies in the one litter. OMG. So adorable. So cute. So like you wanted to bring them all home there and then. How to choose? I think that she chose us. She came over and sat on my shoe. Decision made.

Two years later and she is Holly Wilkie - crazy, wild, insatiable, unpredictable and completely loving. Check out the YouTube clips (see below) if you need some convincing! But she is like no other. All this week while spending most of my time with her alone, I have been musing in my head as to 'the top ten things I learned from Holly'....and so hear it goes:

1. Love - Holly has love for everyone. Unprejudiced, unconditional. You will be licked to death if not knocked over in her small - yet powerfully pawed - dog's attempt at hugging you. She absolutely loves everyone. She loves her master the best though ;) When he comes through that door tomorrow, her whole world (and mine) will be back to balance. I'm sure the neighbours hear it from a mile down the road every time, but the yelping, and crying and excited Holly sounds can last for a good 30mins after their reunion. I just wait my turn ;)

Dog Zen ;)

2. Give - As above. The un-adultered joy and love that dog has brought to our lives...for only the promise of love and walks and runs and swims and routine and dog biscuits in return.

Let's go!

3. Forgive - I am generally the one that scolds Holly, and - convinced the cliche runs true - my scolding of her hurts me more than her. While I am wracked with guilt and upset for having to chastise her - usually when she runs out on the road or does something completely life threatening, she just wags her tail and gets over it. She doesn't hold an ounce of it against me. In fact, I think she loves me more for it (probably pushing it a bit there).

4. Yoga - First thing in the morning - you got it ;) Effortless and textbook, they don't call it downward dog for nothing ;)

5. Go Wild - This dog, the bitch with the most beautiful angelic golden framed face - is not afraid to show her wild side! Again, something to learn here. I think we all benefit from unleashing our inner craziness. Better out than in ;) It can be difficult, I know this. But so enjoyable.

6. Enjoy your food - Holly knows when we turn the last bend for home. If it's the evening she knows it's her time, and she will not be calm until she has a bowl of her favourite biscuits before her. And then, after literally savaging the whole bowl in seconds, she has acquired the knack of unleashing the almightiest belching sound you ever heard! again, apologies to the neighbours. And she doesn't apologise ;)

7. Show your inner joy - She couldn't hide it if she tried! She has this tail that I'm sure must be directly linked to the pleasure centre in her brain. The swimming is the most joyous for her, or is it the thrown stick? Of course she can't hide her fear or anxiety either - that's the tell tale hair up like a shot on the back of her neck when an un-leashed other dog approaches.

8. Rest - I've watched her go from crazy and wild to complete and utter immobile relaxation all in the space of 5 mins. Impressive. Not a knot in those muscles to unravel. And when she snores...well, she puts certain people in the shade ;)

9. Live for the moment and Live simply - see all of the above :) Holly doesn't spare a moment for the past or the future, she is totally here and now in the present. Dog transcendental ;)

Throw the stick damn it :)

10. Approach life and love with utter abandon - again, probably one or two of the above combined. But watching her now sprawled out across the couch - head back, four paws in the air and yet ready in an instant to go running or accepting treats - just do it.

And there's more, but that's ten for now and Holly is ready for her run ;)

And here's Holly -

A crazy Holly -
http://youtu.be/xiG1fu9JaEI

A young Holly -
http://youtu.be/43aX5adDKLw

Dog out of Hell -
http://youtu.be/hAV1AAsN8VU

Seeing the Mystic in Falling Leaves

Journey into
the darker half of the year..Samhain

There's something completely magical about this time of the year. Not magical in the Christmas sense when artificial lights are colouring houses and trees. And not magical like springtime when hosts of daffodils bend over footpaths and otherwise dreary motorways. This is mystical magical. This is the time of year when everything that we took for granted - long summer evenings, leaves on trees and things a' growing in the garden - is taken from us. The evenings shorten, the lights come on early, the fire is lit everyday and slowly but surely things that were green and living, giving - start to decay and the boundaries between living and dying are blurred. No wonder it is the time of Hallowe'en and the time for spirits to cross over into the world of the living, reminding us of our own mortality. Us Gaels refer to it as Samhain - the seasonal festival that marks the end of the harvest or growing year and welcomes the darker half of the year until the light returns again in Bealtaine (the start of May). Samhain is essentially a festival for the dead and Bealtaine a festival for the living. Meanwhile, back in 2012 Ireland....

While we shiver and bemoan winter's return, those non-humans living closer to the march of Nature's tune surrender without a peep of discontent. Towering beech trees drop the spring green leaves of summer with a gentle shiver - not however without celebrating their passing with a veritable carnival of colour - the like of which would match the canvases of any Van Gogh or Gauguin kaleidoscope of colour. The trees' palette is mostly orange and rust and yellow and purple and green (reminiscent of The Orb's Little Fluffy Clouds anyone?) and all shades between. Walls of burnt orange tunnelling a long beech lined avenue - well, it's enough to take a gal's breath awake on a cold and bitter November day ;) I like ;)

The last three weekends we have been gifted with bright blue skies and views of the sun that would shame a summer's day in Ireland. The cold would bite the nose off you but layers of wool and soft cottons defy the wicked chill and once wellies are on, it's only a matter of minutes kicking through ankle deep layers of crispy, crinkling leaves before the warmth is back in the heart and defiance of life's hardships back in the soul. The Holly dog loves it, and her nose is well buried where newly fallen leaves meet rotting humus. What she hopes to find under all those layers I can only imagine, but the sense of joy that is conveyed by the constant wagging of golden cocker spaniel tail is testament to the joy of the woods and all that it brings her. She first came to us as a puppy in a late October, and I like to think that this is her true time of the year, and her golden coat blends well with the golden carpet that covers the woodland floor.

This one is a teaser - can you spot the Holly dog?

Other than walking the woods in our spare time, it's been pretty quiet on the Holly Cottage garden front. The first fine sunny day we had we emptied the greenhouse of collapsing tomato and cucumber plants, grow bags and all! Then it was time for washing - sudsy water to rid the plastic of the veneer of algae that had built up over summer. The job was painless and kind of therapeutic in some ways. We were reminded of the sweet cucumbers and the cherry delights that we feasted on since July, but resolve was strengthened to do a better job next year....whatever that will bring. In our autumn clean we did encounter the odd brazen slug who was hoping for a mild winter ride under a frost free ledge. Seriously, is there no end to their slug terror? In other news, all the carrots are up, a few sad turnips are left in the ground, beetroot is all harvested and a bounty of parsnips remain in the ground for the winter oven. Speaking of which...

Tonight's creation is oven baked sausages with roasted onions, potatoes and parsnips - you said it, yum ;) Cut spuds and parsnips into wedges, onions cut head to toe. Drizzle with oil, add a sprinkle of fennel and cumin seeds and some fresh thyme. Into the oven at 200deg for 30mins. Then add your favourite sausages - meat or veggie. Roast for another 20mins, let it sit for a few minutes out of the oven - if you can - and then enjoy immensely ;) It's a recipe from the captain of the River Cottage ship, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall....oh so tasty.  Check out the following link, and enjoy!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/feb/24/sausage-recipes-hugh-fearnley-whittingstall

River Cottage pic..the Holly Cottage pic wasn't taken quick enough ;)

Reef thinking - tales from Madagascar

Also published in Elephant Journal November 12 2012
http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/11/reef-thinking-tales-from-madagascar-catherine-wilkie/

For my 30th birthday I booked myself a flight to Madagascar. Too long spent on the bogs and otherwise solid Irish ground. It wasn't for the lemurs I was going, but if I did see one I wasn't going to complain. It was for the coral reefs. 

I flew out from Dublin on a cold December day and landed in a hot and steamy Tulear in the south west of the country. From there, united with a dozen or so other volunteers who had decided to give up a cosy Christmas in the  UK (I was the only Paddy), we travelled for 22 hours in the back of an army truck over the dirt-tracks of Madagascar's outback to get to our base in Andavadoka.

Pirogues moored - Malagasy fishing boats

For six weeks I lived in a beach shack with no door - if there had been a door I'm sure we wouldn't have bothered to close it. We had electricity for a couple of hours every evening. There was no internet, no phone. We got messages transmitted once a week from family by satellite phone. It was more than the locals had, but they were happier than most folk you'd meet in a busy cyber-ridden street in the developed world. This place was a paradise. It was - is - a beautifully quiet and peaceful, and un-interrupted rural corner of Madagascar. 

The research centre is tagged on to the small fishing village of Andavadoka and run by an award winning charity called Blue Ventures. The base was set up initially by a couple of UK guys who were concerned about the degradation of coral reefs globally. They were equally inspired by the pristine coral reefs off the west coast of Madagascar and the need to preserve these exquisite, vulnerable ecosystems before overfishing and pollution could wreak irreversible damage. 

I spent my first week there learning how to dive - perfect buoyancy was required for the work to be done. Further training was necessary in order to carry out the monitoring work on the reef - we each had to learn over 100 species of reef fish, coral, starfish and other reef dwellers that we would encounter. I thought it would be difficult and it was, but it was like learning the species of the Burren as an undergraduate - once you got your eye in on the varieties and colours, the differences became clear and obvious and each species became a new acquaintance, and a new wonder. 

We would wake at 5.30am and the first dive of the day would be out soon after. The mornings were calm, and I never tired of watching the local fishermen set out early in their pirogues - south bound - for the daily fishing. The wind would carry the boats easily home in the afternoon, and for this reason too most of the diving was done in the morning when the Mozambique Channel was kindest. 

The diving was superb. The silence of that underworld and the absolute beauty of the reefs that were literally just a stone's throw from our base camp perched on Coco Beach, hidden from those on land by tropical blue waters - well, it was deeply humbling and truly inspiring. Angelfish, Butterflyfish, Grouper, Parrotfish, Conger Eels, Starfish, Surgeonfish, Goggle-Eyes, Jacks, Barracuda, Anemonefish...all this life supported by a tiny, teeny life form with the ability to create superstructures of great beauty and mystery - coral. 

Mi casa, zebu casa ;)

Since that precious time spent in Madagascar I have only returned to the coral reef twice - once in Cuba and the last time in Barbados. In both places the beauties were to be seen but there was also the worrying presence of coral skeletons and foreboding algae. 

I got to worrying and found that the trend is not good for the Caribbean coral reef. All those small islands with growing populations means more fishing and more nutrient run-off. The likes of Hurricane Sandy and her sisters aren't kind to coral reefs but natural disasters coupled with overfishing, development projects, soil and nutrient run-off do not make for a bright future. Rising temperatures present another gloomy figure on the scene. In the words of Father Jack - feck. 

Beach clean up time in Andavadoka

We have to support the work of groups like Blue Ventures and we have to do what we can to raise awareness of the degradation of these spectacular ecosystems so that we can preserve their exquisiteness now and into the future. The folk at Blue Ventures work closely with the local community - approaching the problem from social, economic and environmental perspectives. More projects like this and more will be achieved. In the meantime, check out your nearest coral reef....

http://blueventures.org/conservation/

http://blog.blueventures.org/category/madagascar/

http://www.iucn.org/about/work/programmes/marine/marine_our_work/coral_reefs_and_climate_change/