Elven World, Hill of Tara

“He closed his eyes and felt his spirit soar. Tara’s sweet smelling grass lay beneath his feet. The cloudless sky seemed to wait for his action…” – Elven World

My return to Hill of Tara was breathtaking and passionate — more than I expected since, to many, it is just a hill and pastures for sheep. Yet I know, as you do, it is the seat of the Elven kings, home of Tuatha de Danann and the faery mounds.

The road to Tara off the main road from Dublin to Kells. When I stepped off the bus, excitement and wonder filled my heart. I trod up the long road up the hill that is lovingly nestled in between bright green pastures. The sky was grey with only a tiny spot of blue.

When at last I reached the top, I passed all signs and even the statue of Saint Patrick and rushed to stand atop this profoundly familiar place. The sky opened showing blue above with streams of light to welcome me at last. Tears of joy flowed and it was as if I’d finally come home, so I was surrounded by friends, though not of this dimension, but beyond.

Though all I read there and since of the archeology, of the stories, none of them compares with the truth. Someday the truth beneath the mound of Tara Hill will be revealed to you…
But that is another story….