I was lucky enough to be able to céilí at Danny Gormley’s in the townland of Rotten Mountain  (a transliteration from the Irish: the original name may have been rath tine (fort of fire) or raithneach muine (shrubbery of ferns), in Co Fermanagh, close to where I grew up. Rotten Mountain was always something of a legendary name to me when I was a child – I used to hear about it from my late father, Dr Seamus Montague, the local GP. The name always struck me. So it was great to get the chance to write about a really special event that took place there on January 31st, for my latest Country Diary. This céilí has taken place here for many years; and, on a wider scale locally, for many years before that.

It was the eve of Imbolc, or St Brigid’s day, which is still celebrated here in the traditional way by making St Brigid’s crosses out of rushes.

I have so many people to thank, those that made it to céilí that night; and all the other nights of the past. I want to thank Danny for opening his home to us all, and sharing so many stories with me; and I’d like to thank his family for their hospitality and kindness; Mena Hegarty who always makes me welcome in Drumskinny (another nearby townland); all the dancers and singers and story-tellers, young and old. It was a magical evening, and I’m so glad to have had the chance to be there.

And thanks, as ever, to Paul Fleckney, editor of the Country Diary, for the opportunity to write about such a special event.