Sue went on an organised, group walk in the Blackstairs earlier in the year and she has been trying to get me there since.

And on Sunday, a beautiful autumn morning, we went.

Sue had travelled by bus on her visit so was a little uncertain of directions and we went, initially, in the wrong direction in search of our starting point, Shannon's Lane.

Had we not done so we would have missed this...................

….........and I am, to this moment, pondering as to why somebody would feel an urge to put tea-pots on top of fence-posts: maybe there is a symbolism of which I am unaware?

But we were soon put on the right path and were shortly on Shannon's Lane, as planned.

Shannon's Lane is a 'green road' and 'green roads' feature very high on my personal Richter scale of likes.
The first one I came to know was at Cushendall in the Glens of Antrim which I walked many a time back in the nineteen-sixties.
Since then we have found 'green lanes' in all the places we have come to know well: on Beara, in the Comeragh's and several in our own locality.

And just a few hundred metres up Shannon's Lane there is a string of laneside, lane defining buildings - I presume those that gave the lane its name - and on their lane-side side there is a small plaque......

…................which says what it says, so pleasingly quietly, because it was on the dwelling within the curtilage of these buildings that a German bomb fell and killed the named misfortunate in the year stated.

But on and up and up Shannon's Lane, some of it passing a plantation of gloomy conifers that have become such an unwelcome feature in so many of Ireland's mountainy areas.

And, in fact, apart from the walk in the mountains, it was other trees that were our quest.

There are a group of beech trees, considerably above the conifer tree-line, which are said to be the highest growing beech trees in the land. - I guess, when they say 'beech trees', they mean 'deciduous' trees.

At the very top of Shannon's Lane, just above the conifer blot, where the landscape opened out, we met another pair of walkers on their way down the lane. In our chat we were assured that we were within only a short distance of the sought for beech trees.

And off we set again.............

Now, I do not wish to appear disloyal, but it has to be said here that Sue's direction-finding failed again and instead of walking directly to the trees we entirely circumvoluted a mountain that took us to within a few feet of the sumit of Mt. Leinster, the highest peak in the south-east of Ireland, before we found them!

Mind you, had we not made this error, we would not have seen these views back over Carlow and Kilkenny.

We could just discern Saddle Hill (sadly not visible in the picture) so, as we sat and rested, we were able to determine exactly where the Arrigle Valley lay in the panorama.
Those of you who follow these pages may remember that in An evening walk over the Arrigle...... 24.08.10 I posted a picture of The Blackstairs as seen between Mount Brandon and Saddle Hill. - This was, almost exactly, the reverse view.

Now, having taken this lengthy, circuitous, scenic route by the time we found the beech trees, still some distance beneath us, we decided that we would not, on this occasion, descend to pay hommage as the day was now well advanced and we were still, even by the direct route, some distance from Shannon's Lane, the car, a pint of Guinness and home.

Back on track........Sue with the Mt. Leinster mast (which has such significance to us radio listeners in the south-east) in the background.

.....and I forgot to mention that, on the way up, Sue had shown me these staddle stones in an enclosure that, we figured, was likely of very early origins.

(Staddle stones are another story - one I might tell one day).

Before too long we were back on Shannon's Lane.

And once on the road, as we looked back at where we had been, were these walls - again such a generic feature of Ireland's mountain regions.

And the pint(s) in The Spotted Dog in Inistiogue (and that's yet another story) were wonderful, as was the roast chicken - sorry girls - that Sue put together, with commendable speed, on our return home.

A great day - one that will be repeated.