I found James at work at the edge of his property, where one ancient dry stone wall is met by another of more modern construction. The donkey in the neighbouring field had taken to leaning on the corner to bray and, having perceived a weakness, had dislodged some of the stones in its attempt to get at better pasture. To the critical eye, James’s ground was better only in that it held no donkeys.
The donkey shared its home with an elderly horse. Winter had not been kind to this creature. It wandered across to peer at us myopically. Hollow eyed, gaunt faced and grey with age, it appeared thoroughly disinterested in what we had to say and turned away with a hideous sneer on its sagging lips.
I gave James the news that the mayfly were up on the River Robe. Their annual appearance would induce him to forsake his favoured worm and fish with the fly rod. ‘Mayfly? They’re late this year, as late as I ever knew them.’ He threw his hammer to the foot of the wall. ‘It’ll wait there awhile. We might as well go and see.’ The donkey brayed its disapproval and trotted across to see if it could undo the repairs before we returned….

Mayo News 11/06/2013 Read the article ‘Fly away to the flowing river’

Mayo News - GOSSAMER WINGS The delicate mayflies were late hatching this year, but their reappearance is even more welcome after their numbers declined due to pollution.
Mayo News - GOSSAMER WINGS The delicate mayflies were late hatching this year, but their reappearance is even more welcome after their numbers declined due to pollution.