Busking Into The Mystic

Busking Into The Mystic

By Paul McCann

 I took the road out of Rosslare and made my way North . It was a long way from Clare to where the wild flowers grow on top of the mystic hills  and the crossing between the corners of the soul where I feel at home . It’s good to go just where you please , blowing like a breeze ,where people can hear me play my songs .

It makes me happy in a strange way to be there everyday in a place where life took me , where I had a jar in a bar , or shared a joke or two and sure when people are ok for you to be there and they welcome the wandering minstrel , well then that's where I would hang my hat and stay there for a while   .

Doing  as I please , blowing through like a breeze  .For years now I’ve been a wandering it seems with a six string and my bag of songs . I’m free to wander , free to roam making music on my own .  

I made my way to the County Down were the people are filled with folklore , living a life filled with stories and poetry . Being in places like this is like getting an infusion of life through the veins . For me personally music has always been in my blood .  Music is my lifeline and it has  kept me going and shown me so many faces and places wherever I went .

So anyway I had always wanted to check out  the mystical sights around the Ards peninsula . Strangford Lough , Dundrum and silent Donaghadee .

I cast my thoughts  upon the water and heard the words that spoke to me . The4n in a song I began to wander to a bridge where the dream had left me standing there in silent Donaghadee . The wild flowers had gathered all around me and their colours  danced so gracefully like in a beautiful landscape I was in wonder of this place I called silent Donaghadee .

It just because its there somewhere in the air up in the sky where my thoughts escaped on a cloud where I found this place called home . It’s there but not really here at all m its somewhere in a space of its own and on and on I walked on a path  ,
with no other things left to see , I thought it was best to be leaving and I whispered goodbye to silent Donaghadee . .

The hidden beauty of Northern Ireland  is there to be discovered and now it was time for me to try and capture some of those open spaces there as well as doing some busking .  Travelling through County Down not knowing what I would find is a little like a magical mystery tour . 

I found a few caravan sites that had an empty van s for hire.

 Lucky enough I found a place on the road to Newcastle near the mountains of Mourne that swept down to the Irish sea . 

In the town of Newcastle I did some busking and was amazed at how much money I made in an hour . There were people everywhere as fortunately for me there was a carnival happening at that time around the beach which presented me with a perfect platform for busking .

There were lots of beautiful sights to see and when I wasn’t busking 

I took a walk along the paths up the mountains and down through the glen where the colours of wild flowers had scattered themselves in the open spaces where I had never been before .

In some spots the long grass grew knee high where the deep blue eyes of the butterflies wings drifted past and there could be heard the whispers of lovers who lay in each others arms . I would sometimes go softly singing to no one there  as if in a  dream I had found the promise of an undying love , which was a good enough reason for Mother nature to lend an ear .  I stayed a few days busking around Newcastle taking time out to walk the tracks of the nature reserve where rabbits ran , skipped and jumped over bushed in the enclosed spaces of the reserve that made its way to the seashore with the backdrop of the Mourne mountains gentling pushing itself into the picture . It was almost like being in a dream there around the open spaces near Dundrum.

The magic open spaces of Tollymore Forest with a fairy tree and a blackthorn bush covering the hidden tracks where you could stop and take a look at the wonder of it all .

I walked across the stepping stones by the banks of Shimna River that flowed through Tollymore Forest and crossed the bridge where shadows wandered and saw the leaves of trees that danced so gracefully as the soft wind blew and the clouds wafted in the wonder of it all . Between the sunlit places, a running stream , cut its way through a corridors of trees and on a  path of shaded emerald green , I cast some bread upon the water and I heard the silent lapping of the water over rocks speaking to the fish underneath to come and show yourself to the world . In the silence that spoke to me I let my thoughts fall into space and strummed a song I had never played before because that’s what happens when your busking in the mystic .

The End