Bold Riley

I stood on a shaded promontory overlooking a roiling stream in the forest near the place of my birth. As the water churned over the basalt boulders that formed the hillsides of the Willamette Valley, the bleak watery spring sun belied the childlike and playful nature of the river. In the spots of stillness shown by the light, the true depth of the waters became apparent. So it has always been with the Celts. A fierce and passionate people, my ancestors loved, lived, sung, danced and died with the fervor of battle and the tenderness of a youngling. The heart of a Celt, like that rushing stream, is both playful and profound. The beating of our brogues as we dance upon the turf plays out a rhythm of prayer and of play. I can only hope that you will find a small grain of that truth in the songs we sing. Christopher - November 15, 2010.