Michael Harding

Nov 28, 2024 | irishtimes.com | Michael Harding

The cat was on the rug, sitting vigil over the body of a dead mouse, which I suppose he wanted to present to me as a gift. But I don’t eat mice, so I took the gift by the tail and laid it outside on the windowsill, knowing that the magpies in the spruce tree would appreciate a little extra lunch.

Nov 21, 2024 | irishtimes.com | Michael Harding

It was the middle of November. I had not seen as lovely an autumn for many years. Leaves falling slowly and no frost. Each morning a deeper carpet of leaf holding the light and assaulting my eyes when I opened the curtains. Even the birds on the feeder seemed relaxed and unworried about the impending winter as they pecked at the peanuts. And I was happy. I had not been stressed or depressed for a long time. I took pleasure writing columns every week and talking about my recently published book.

Nov 14, 2024 | irishtimes.com | Michael Harding

Some months ago I was in the Hawk’s Well Theatre in Sligo to hear Martin Shaw, a wonderful mythologist, perform stories from ancient Irish texts. I’m always amazed at how Celtic faith in trees, hawks and crows gradually blended with new narratives of Christ when the Christian monks first arrived in Ireland. A good example of this blending narrative is found in the story of a monk who was tasked with carrying the body of Christ across Ireland, only to find that it was very heavy.

Nov 7, 2024 | irishtimes.com | Michael Harding

Long ago I knew an elderly Traveller woman whose father fought in the first World War. He got married to a 14-year-old girl who had 10 children by him. She died before she was 40, and he was left on the side of the road, a soldier rearing his 10 little chicks. “He would be there at the fire,” the old woman told me, “playing a mouth organ and telling us of the places he had been in; Salonica and northern Italy.

Oct 30, 2024 | irishtimes.com | Michael Harding

Next week Americans will choose a new president, and still the world continues to be scorched by wars and famine, and I feel ashamed that I have nothing to say about any of it. I watch the cruelties of war on my laptop each evening, yet I have no comment. Apart from repeating the mantra that it is better to light a candle rather than curse the darkness. Which in my opinion means it’s better to speak positively about life no matter how dark it gets.