 A walk down to the fairy fields at the end of the Cahermacrusheen boreen where we have a grand picnic of cheese sandwiches and Tayto crisps and a flask of tea. The sea is still and the Aran Isles look very close. Most of the land around North Doolin is parched and the grass dry and brownish as if this was August rather than early April. But here, on the way to the rocks at the edge of the Burren, the turf is thick and wet like black gold and little patches of intense green burst out from beneath the stones. The kids do a cow attracting dance that achieves its objective, expect these are bullocks not cows. On the way back we see a thorn tree decorated with ribbons, materials, toys, holy water and candles. Next to this is the dry stone wall part of which is made up of massive horizontal stones, which I have a feeling had once been the lost Cahermacrusheen dolmen.