So I moved to Dunny Cove, a place so obscure that most people in the nearby big city of Clonakilty (pop. 2000) scratch their heads and ask for coordinates. Then, if they’re driving here, they get lost anyway and call on their mobile phones for directions. I like this. Dunny Cove is a tiny sandy beach surrounded by high cliffs and menacing rocks. There are three houses in the cul de sac; I live in half of the first one, a duplex high on the verge overlooking the cove and icy winter Atlantic. Pods of whales and dolphins glide pass my doorsteps, silent as shadows in a churchyard. Basking Sharks loll just off shore. There is magic in Dunny Cove.
My neighbor, in the other half of the duplex is Shanti, a medium sized black and white dog of indeterminate, but undoubtedly splendid, ancestry. Shanti is sui generis, his own pup in every way from his big soulful eyes to his unique “Queen Anne” shaped forelegs. Of course, Shanti has a human caregiver, Cathy, my winsome neighbor, but the thing is that Shanti is a guy dog and “mature” like me. He seems genuinely happy to have the friendship of another old dog. (Of course, it may just be he enjoys the treats I slip him.) And, Shanti is an ancient soul, peaceful as his name and exemplary in his love of all creation. So we walk together, greeting neighbors, canine, bovine, equine, and human with friendly smiles, sniffs, and kisses. Shanti refreshes himself from rain puddles and a little roadside seep spring he’s shown me. Shanti says the spring is holy and has its own resident naiad, a water deity named Trixi. Trixi is a doggie deity.
Shanti makes a paradise of each moment, looking up from time to time to share the joy with me. “Isn’t puddle splashing lovely? Did you notice the earthy fragrance of that horse; the bright yellow of the Gorse?” So Shanti coaxes me into his magical world of spirits, scents, and sensations; a place otherwise lost to my numb human observation.
Shanti and I like to walk to Beala Cusheen a neighboring cove where he searches out Pepper Dulse (Osmunia pinnatifida), a kelp, which he eats with gusto. Pepper Dulse, is very high in minerals and has culinary uses as a spice, but in moderation. Fresh from the shore it tastes salty and spicy. Shanti has a jones for Pepper Dulse, but eats it only after first vigorously shaking the sand and little sea creatures from it. Shanti is a nearly a Jain so assiduously does he avoid killing. This too endears Shanti.
Speaking of seaweed, I’ve just purchased Prannie Rhatigan’s Irish Seaweed Kitchen, a wonderfully illustrated cookbook singing the praises of Ireland’s abundant shoreline. All Irish seaweeds are quite edible and may be used in salads and soups, as spices and more. An Irish seaweed you might find in your neighborhood health food store is Carrageen from which one may easily make Carrageen Jelly, a wonderful dessert served with lemon and honey. My friend Cally introduced me to Carrageen Jelly just a few weeks ago. It’s like ice cream from the sea and is good for you! How often in a lifetime does that happen? Once I purchase my Vita Mix blender I’ll have seaweed in my daily smoothie and soups.
So it goes. Life is abundant in West Cork on the edge of the Irish speaking sea. May every earthly blessing find its way to your doorstep in this the season of moon and stars.
