From the tranquil shores of Lough Inchiquin, the gaze wanders towards the jagged horizon of Macgillycuddy’s Reeks, a mountain range that seems carved from the rock of time, where the rugged contours of the peaks merge with the ever-changing Irish sky.

This is a land of stark contrasts, where the calm reflection of the mountains in the surrounding lakes contrasts with their wild and untamed nature, as if to remind us that true beauty is made of strength and delicacy. Macgillycuddy’s Reeks, which at 1,038 metres are home to Carrantuohill, the highest peak in Ireland, owe their name to the McGillycuddy clan, an ancient family of chiefs who ruled these lands. Their profile is that of a sleeping dragon, a sequence of peaks that stretch towards the sky like a message of defiance to the Atlantic winds. The word “Reeks” actually means “jagged mountains”, and never was a name more appropriate for these spires that seem to want to scratch the clouds. This is a place that invites reflection and humility. Its beauty lies not only in the spectacular views, but in the sense of continuity and permanence that it conveys. From Uragh, the stone circle looks towards these mountains with the same patience with which an old tree observes the seasons. And it is easy to imagine that, for the ancient inhabitants of this land, the Reeks were more than just mountains: they were a boundary between the known world and the realm of mystery, an immutable presence that guarded the secrets of existence.

The beauty of this landscape is accentuated by the tranquility that surrounds it, a moment of deep reflection in a place where time seems to have stopped. As I gaze at the mountains, I feel a strong bond with the past, a connection with those who have walked this earth before me.