We started our day, this fifth day of our pilgrimage, with a visit to St Kevin's Church, Laragh, just up the road (about two minutes' drive) from the Glendalough Monastic Site and our overnight accommodation.
This a church building that is simple yet beautiful, and features two icons - of St Kevin and of St Lawrence O'Toole - inside the building as well as a memorial to the Twin Towers in New York City in the grounds crafted by a local resident who happened to be in that City on that fateful 11 September.
The grounds also feature a well-kept labyrinth, which unfortunately I had no time to walk, as well as many other features to encourage the spiritual life. The grounds, while not extensive, have been managed well for that purpose - which only goes to show what can be done if there is a desire to use the space well and a willingness to expend the resources to bring the desire to life.
We celebrated Mass together in St Kevin's Church as we prepared to spend the day pondering his place in the life and soul of Ireland, predominantly through what we would do after Mass was concluded.
I have to confess that today, and this particular visit, has been at the very centre of my hopes for this particular pilgrimage. After a very short and hurried visit eight years ago, I've been wanting to return to the Glendalough Monastic Site, that place where St Kevin established his monastery, ever since. And here it was, a whole day dedicated to exploring this place that has been in my memory for all those years.
The monastic site itself is, of course, ancient, dating back to the sixth century, but the place in which it is located - the Valley of Two Lakes (Gleann Dá Loch in the Irish) - has been a place of significance for a lot longer. St Kevin originally came to this place in search of solitude and the ascetic life, a rich part of the Celtic expression of Christianity, wherein holy men and women desiring to be closer to God left the company of others and went into the wild places.
And there can be little doubt that this valley would have been a wild place.
Our guide through the monastic site was a most interesting fellow, and he made the site come alive from the stories and information he shared in what can only be described as a thoroughly Irish manner - full of story and colour and passion.
We were privileged to be able to access St Kevin's Church, normally locked and off limits to visitors, at the end of our tour, a fitting place to end the exploration of the site, and be set free to explore the rest of the valley and all it has to offer.
After a quick bite to eat in preparation for what was to come, Mum and I set off to walk from the monastic site to the upper lake of the valley, It's not a terribly long distance, but the path undulates and can be a little uneven in places.
The walk was beautiful and the peace was only disturbed by other visitors who seemed to be determined to set a personal best time while talking with their companions about mundance and profane things. I'm not convinced that the beauty surrounding them was fully appreciated, but I could, of course, be wrong. Regardless, Mum and I walked slowly taking it all in, seeing the beauty and all that reveals of the presence of the Divine.
Those who know me well will appreciate that my photgraphic passion runs to anywhere that water and rocks come together, and there was certainly plenty of opportunities for that as we got closer to the upper lake.
We also discovered - semi-randomly, since I had been told to keep my eyes open for it - a ruined church near the upper lake known as the Reefert Church, the name in Irish meaning the 'Burial Place of the Kings'. This site, just off the lake, is supposedly the original location of the tomb of St Kevin, so local chieftains also chose to be buried there. It is a 'thin place'...
Mum and I also walked up the incline - very bravely in Mum's case, for which I am grateful - to find the site of St Kevin's Cell. When we got there there was a group of students and their guide there, but very soon Mum and I found ourselves alone, sitting there high above the upper lake, listening to the wind in the trees, the call of birds, and watching the lake below use ... just as I imagine St Kevin would have done in his quest for solitude and the presence of God made manifest in nature.
