#82.2 Thursday, July 2, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time
 

This Sister is the actual sister to the little monk she tells me. Her twin is Brother Timothy.

She takes the weeding prongs and a garden bag and we follow a well-trodden path that descends then turns steeply. She’s promises to tell me the tales of St. Brendan.

We slide down toward this wider green space on a ledge, rich with grasses already forming seed heads. It isn’t a long way, but it does tax my nearly healing bones and I wonder if I am even fit for this. My walking stick is of little use downward but I cling to it, because I suppose I will be able to use it for the climb back up. Here are rows of chard growing in a sunny spot between the rising rocks.

The sister kneels down on the earth at the chard rows and gestures for me to do the same. Kneeling is a good stretch for my stiff knees, and we are perfectly situated either for gardening or for prayer. Why did I assume we were kneeling for gardening? She folds her hands together, and casts her gaze skyward.

      “Oh, Holy three, let us not profane your sacred soil with human greed. Let us borrow only our merest sustenance. Amen.”

      “The earth is sacred here?” I ask.

She scratches up some fresh shoots of weeds from among the chard and sets them aside on a particular flat rock near-by. 

      “Of course, the earth is Creation, and all that it yields is gifted to us from God. It is by our human frailty that we cast away any of these gracious gifts simply because they don’t serve people. People can be so narrow to save only the things we plant ourselves as though we are better gardeners than angels or nature itself. The birds, with the wiser palate, will find a use for these weed sprouts.”

      “I see.”

      “And furthermore, this particular land is specifically sacred, because here, in this very place, it is said that Saint Brendan and his monks once trod. When this place was pure, with no rock or grass turned by human labor it was said that the Saint and his little band of monks were welcomed by the sea birds and the creatures.” ^[Footnote]

The sister takes her gardener’s blade and trims the leaves of chard leaving the root tops standing in the garden rows.  She collects these leaves, allowing the wounded root to stand in the soil. 

^{Footnote: Wikipedia offers an overview of this Saint. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brendan_the_Navigator (retrieved 2-20-26)}

(Continues Tuesday, July 7)