{"id":2677,"date":"2016-04-17T21:11:21","date_gmt":"2016-04-17T21:11:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/?p=2677"},"modified":"2016-04-19T18:26:18","modified_gmt":"2016-04-19T18:26:18","slug":"catch-of-the-merrow","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/catch-of-the-merrow\/","title":{"rendered":"Catch of the Merrow"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Aran<\/a>
Aran Islands seen from Renmore – taken by Tomas O Carthaigh 2016<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The Merrow<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

(Moruadh or Murr\u00faghach, from muir, sea, and oigh, a maid) was a sea spirit thought to lure people to their deaths.<\/p>\n

Alas in Galway we have too many coming to an end in the water, whether at their own hand or through misfortune. This is dedicated to their memory and to the excellent work that Search and Rescue do to recover the bodies for the grieving families. Unseen in all this are the river patrols in Galway city and other cities who prevent many more tragedies such as these occurring.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The waves in time give up the sight
\nOf the Merrows catch that fishes at night
\nThe tears that washes faces with grief
\nWash them anew bittersweet relief
\nAt least their flesh is among their own again
\nTo be laid with forfathers and remembered then
\nThe Merrows of life, misfortune or folly
\nOr pressures too great for a person to carry
\nNo creature is it as once believed to be
\nStill the Merrow takes her share to the waves of the sea…<\/p>\n

\n

<\/a>The Merrow<\/h2>\n

The Merrow, or if you write it in the Irish, Moruadh <\/i>or Murr\u00faghach, <\/i>from muir, <\/i>sea, and oigh, <\/i>a maid, is not uncommon, they say, on the wilder coasts. The fishermen do not like to see them, for it always means coming gales.<\/p>\n

The male Merrows (if you can use such a phrase — I have never heard the masculine of Merrow) have green teeth, green hair, pig’s eyes, and red noses; duck-like scale between their fingers.<\/p>\n

Sometimes they prefer, small blame to them, good-looking fishermen to their sea lovers. Near Bantry in the last century, there is said to have been a woman covered all over with scales like a fish, who was descended from such a marriage. Sometimes they come out of the sea, and wander about the shore in the shape of little hornless cows.<\/p>\n

They have, when in their own shape, a red cap, called a cohullen druith, <\/i>usually covered with feathers. If this is stolen, they cannot again go down under the waves. Red is the color of magic in every country, and has been so from the very earliest times. The caps of fairies and magicians are well-nigh always red.<\/p>\n

\n