Tar isteach, as they say in the first language of this place, come in, and welcome.

In case you were wondering about the spiky vegetation, it's what grows around my house in west Cork, not the fashionable bit, along the coast, but the Irish-speaking mountainy part, the badlands on the border between Cork and Kerry where rocks jut out of the land and oakwoods spring between rock, bog and furze.

I've always gone for wild country - perhaps something to do with spending my earliest years in a converted double-decker bus on a hillside above the town of Selkirk, in the Scottish Borders. I love visiting cities, but go crazy when I'm forced to live in them. There aren't many wild places left. My writing charts some of them.

Rosemary Canavan is a poet and novelist. Her latest collection of poetry ‘Trucker’s Moll’ was published this year by Salmon Poetry in Galway. Her first collection, ‘The Island’, based partly on her experience of teaching in Spike Island Prison, was shortlisted for the Vincent Buckley Poetry Prize at the University of Melbourne, Australia.

 

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