THE umptheenth annual November 1 Castleisland Horse Fair was held here on Main Street on Thursday last. The town was black with people and animals. But the dealers were giving nothing away and preached only poverty all day.
They take the old childhood warning of not talking to strangers to away beyond the limits.
Two strategically placed showers of hail / rain dampened the event earlier and killed it off later on as the light of the shortening day faded.
There were cages of cats, boxes of dogs, gaggles of geese and groups of men and women going hither and yon on a mission for shade, shelter and sustenance.
A murder of noisy crows descended from the rooftops as the street and flags began to clear.
You could imagine them giving out yards about the lack of oats in the droppings on the street after the fair.
The older ones among them would have picked well on the same evening only a few short years ago.
Alas, there was little on show at the fair which suggested that oats were still being fed to the noble animals at the rates it was when the ill-fated Celtic Tiger was in full stride.
The crows knew at a glance or two that hope was thin on the ground here and headed away towards Ballymacelligott for the evening. Isn't nature a fright.
However, the rain could not dampen the expectation that when the whirl on the street was all over the action would move indoors. Throats were oiled, spirits were primed and music and song came forth.
' The Way We Were' is still doing it for Castleisland and its 'Market Town' image is preserved and reinforced not only till next year but for generations to come.