The Grounds - Where to go and what to see at Ballyvolane
This is guest post written by the my grandfather, Capt. Ian Benson (fondly known as ‘Grumps’), around 2008. Grumps lived in Tim’s House at Ballyvolane from the mid eighties with my grandmother, Wendy, and wrote under the pseudonym of ‘Whisperer’ for a variety of Field sports publications.
Where to go and what to see at Ballyvolane
Standing on the gravel sweep with back to the porch of the main entrance is the place chosen for easy orientation. Straight head, to the right and either side of formal lawns on the reverse side of the house, huge ancient deciduous trees have valiantly held place for some 300 years. Already saplings when Ireland was known as the country of Saints and Scholars.
From then to now so much history must have travelled beneath branches once small, now enormous. It is said that in distant past a man from England came on a brief visit to place trees to best advantage. He liked the place so much that he stayed for forty years! He pruned the young trees, which provided them with spectacular symmetry. Whether the rapture of the guest was shared by the host is not known.
More of these veterans grow in other places, some amongst timber of lesser age, left in natural state for a century or more. Access is difficult, places best left to wildlife whose home it is. In the 1990s a freak wind uprooted a few giants creating temporary chaos. Immediately, planting and under planting took place. Now young trees or rhododendrons bask in light long excluded. Wounds healed, sometimes with surprising improvement.
From right of orientation stance there is an upward slope, with flowering trees and shrubs on both sides of a grass path, which winds beneath beautiful mature timber parallel to a fine stone wall. On the Upper slope there is a large open expanse bedecked by a carpet of Bluebells, which provides a rare image hard to forget. Bluebells require 80 years to form a carpet, it is said. Artists frequently struggle to capture colour and the amazing effect accentuated by tall trees that cover them high. Soft scents waft.
The trout lakes
Half left of stance at lower level, three lakes glister. Two had filled with silt and were restored to original shape a deepened to accommodate fish.In time long gone, there was evidence of a failed attempt to do the third. Discovery of sandstone had pick and shovel, which broke muscle and spirit. Modern machinery barely nodded. It was nice that the original concept was fulfilled albeit 100 or so years later. Wandering on mown grass around the lakes watching all that happens there is far removed from present lifestyle.
From the selected place, on the opposite side of the house, are large formal lawns, which have added their grace for so long that originally the turf must have been trimmed by scythe, an operation demanding of several great skills. A large Copper Beech grows dramatically at the far end of the formal lawns. Beyond is an area of less formality recently replanted in consequence of evil wind. Two walnut trees stand thereabouts – only a brave person might chance a guess at their age.
Left slant across the lawns reveals a walled garden where an inescapable aura of peace and well-being prevails. There are flowering trees, shrubs, flower borders, fruit and vegetables. Beyond this large and well maintained area, the original size of the old garden can be seen. It is difficult now to comprehend the need for such space. Easier when the mind is cast back in time.
Then, there were few preservatives, no refrigerator, deep freezers or supermarkets brought close by speed transport, yet there were many more mouths to feed at all seasons then than now. There was the family of the owner, male house servants, female house servants, coachman, grooms, gardeners and doubtlessly post boys, forester, packmen, raconteurs, and other faraway men who dropped in confident of a cut of bread and fine bacon while clothes dried a little in kitchen warmth.
Within this setting it is no wonder that varied and abundant wildlife find contentment where they are fed and protected. Directly raptors were controlled, the population of songbirds increased greatly. In springtime they conspire to produce a memorable dawn chorus of different pitch and sound that wells from near and far. Many different species of wild animals fulfil their needs in the grounds of Ballyvolane, some resident, others near neighbours. Some are nocturnal, most prefer to move at first or the last of dimsy light. They are not easily seen but signs of their presence are easily read by the knowing.
All make sounds, some too small to be distinguished in the sough of breeze. Most birdsong is audible and melodious, a few species are raucous and some emit sounds so eerie that they might have been wrested from granite deep in wild mountain side. Kestrels are exponents when teaching young to navigate. Parents fly alongside screaming instructions in wildest tones.
The moon Wild animals have variance of sound also. Mating foxes are maestros at conjuring atmosphere of wholly wild places. From a little before Christmas into January is the time for their performance defined as clicketing within the lores of venery. Vixens assume major role by lifting masks. Opening mouths to emit haunting screams from the back of the throat as head writhes from side to side. When this sound springs surprise at night, it is enough to frighten the bejesus out of all but the dead.
Red Squirrels are enchanting and less elusive. A quick eye could detect them swinging, climbing, jumping and scampering. These beautiful small indigenous creatures have few strongholds left to them. The imported American squirrel, or tree rat, supplants them and creates additional damage also. The feckless folly of releasing any form of imported life within home environment is matched only by the stupidity of repetition, which is sadly frequent.
From the starting place and to the left, a track with poor surface curves left and then right to follow the outer side of the yard wall. At the end of the wall on the right is a pretty avenue providing a small surprise when at the far end the isolated Dower House emerges. Standing within a garden and nearby woodland scenes, it is a lonely place suitable to provision of special care of wildlife. To the right of place of garden entry, a high bank with ditches both sides bounds deciduous woodland. Not so long ago, this formidable obstacle taught young horses the need of observation and balance necessary to jumping big and bold, which is safer than dalliance. Now a small cairn rests on top.
Country house bed and breakfast cork, salmon fishing on the Cork blackwater
It is sad when reference is made to a small heap of stones constructed with thought equal to that expended upon a Dolmen. It is a feeding house specially constructed for red squirrels. A little cavity to contain nuts is surrounded by stones xexcept for a small access. A flat stone is placed across the threshold upon which any larger marauding bird must stand that it may reach the nuts and when it does so the lintel is too low for the head to enter the cavity. Small birds help themselves anyway – who cares? In seasons of their choosing these small beautiful creatures now rare, can be watched without disturbance by a few. The habitat belongs to the squirrels and is not for us.
Near Windows on the opposite side of the Dower House, numerous bird feeders hang from branches of a large flowering cherry tree. A large flock of varied songbirds congregate there. They are as little flying flowers, a welcome extra dimension to gardens made less colourful by winter gloom. Additionally, their constant flit has hypnotic effect which may constitute the adult version of mobiles hung above infants, which some say, set them going on lifespan bob.
Fantail dove, romantic wedding venues cork ireland
The saga of the grounds of Ballyvolane would not be complete without mention of the much loved domestic animals, which are as much a part as are trees, rock or water. A portly retired Spaniel does all in her power to instil part of the radiance of her nature into two tiny terriers whose object in life is to create mayhem and then jump into the middle of it. Their beguiling looks and ways serve well to further this mission. A flock of fantail pigeons practise acrobatics above and around the house. When golden sunlight, so much a part of Ireland, glints upon white wings held high in swoop produces a memory that does not fade. Three donkeys, two mares and a gelding, live in ways that suit only them. It is rumoured that nearby a black stallion lurks and should he have his way with the mares the herd might increase. There are few sights more enchanting than the teetering steps of a newborn donkey.
The aura cast by Ballyolane is strong. From within gossamer structure, it may be that happenings long gone is the root of power which these other diverse facets supplement. Such is the strength of this nebulous waft that people return often for test.