Lismore

The old stories explicitly warn travelers not to follow the floating lights in the woods, not because the lights themselves were dangerous, but because of who or what was holding them.

These beings inside the Lismore orbs weren't aggressive, like the river dweller in North Carolina, nor were they chaotic like the Wolfen Park gnomes that we'll discuss soon.

But they were calm, observant, and profoundly intelligent.

Now, what happened next didn't involve any spoken words.

Decades later, he settled in County Cork, Ireland, another land dripping with ancient folklore, right near a traditional fairy ring.

It's as if the trajectory of his entire life was recalibrated on that single strange night in 1970.

So the Lismore Orbs case is a perfect, baffling intersection of high strangeness.

It forces us to ask deeply uncomfortable questions about the nature of these encounters.

They still swim in the deep, quiet pools of our modern rivers.

just waiting beneath the surface now if you ever find yourself wandering the western highlands of scotland looking out past oban you'll see the isle of lismore rising up out of the water like the spine of some ancient sleeping leviathan the name itself comes from the gaelic leos more meaning the great garden Unlike the harsh, craggy granite of the surrounding highlands, Lismore is a strip of fertile limestone.

It's green, it's lush, and for thousands of years it's been a place steeped in the sacred and the strange.

Places like Lismore have a way of holding on to the old magic.

The veil there isn't just thin.

In some spots, it's practically torn right through.

And back in 1970, three young men staying in a quiet, isolated cottage on the island found out exactly what happens when something from the other side decides to step through that tear and introduce itself.

So, to really understand what happened, you have to picture the isolation of Lismore in 1970.

Tony Currie has died, C-U-double-L-R-I-E, via Mike Terry from the website radiosix.com. For the last sixty-three years, Tony owned and operated Radio 6 International.

Sadly passed away on the twenty-sixth of September at his home on the Isle of Lismore.

His family are very grateful to the support they received from his many friends and colleagues in the broadcasting industry and beyond.

Radio 6 International will continue, but for the present, with a slightly reduced service.

Oh no, they still swim in the deep, quiet pools of our modern rivers, just waiting beneath the surface.

Now, if you ever find yourself wandering the western highlands of Scotland, looking out past Oban, you'll see the Isle of Lismore rising up out of the water like the spine of some ancient sleeping leviathan.

The name itself comes from the Gaelic Leos Mor, meaning the great garden.

Unlike the harsh craggy granite of the surrounding highlands, Lismore is a strip of fertile limestone.

It's green, it's lush, and for thousands of years, it's been a place steeped in the sacred and the strange.

Places like Lismore have a way of holding on to the old magic.

The veil there isn't just thin.

In some spots, it's practically torn right through.

Now, if you ever find yourself wandering the

western highlands of Scotland, looking out past Oban, you'll see the Isle of Lismore rising up out of the water like the spine of some ancient sleeping leviathan.

The name itself comes from the Gaelic leos mor, meaning the great garden.

Unlike the harsh, craggy granite of the surrounding highlands, Lismore is a strip of fertile limestone.

It's green, it's lush, and for thousands of years, it's been a place steeped in the sacred and the strange.

Places like Lismore have a way of holding on to the old magic.

The veil there isn't just thin.

In some spots, it's practically torn right through.

They still swim in the deep, quiet pools of our modern rivers, just waiting beneath the surface.

Now, if you ever find yourself wandering the western highlands of Scotland, looking out past Oban, you'll see the Isle of Lismore rising up out of the water like the spine of some ancient sleeping leviathan.

The name itself comes from the Gaelic Leos Mor, meaning the great garden.

Unlike the harsh, craggy granite of the surrounding highlands, Lismore is a strip of fertile limestone.

It's green, it's lush, and for thousands of years, it's been a place steeped in the sacred and the strange.

Places like Lismore have a way of holding on to the old magic.

The veil there isn't just thin.

In some spots, it's practically torn right through.

"I'll be bringing up the rear.

And I'm listening to an archive edition about the Island of Lismore with Butterfingers Mark dropping the gate latch pin." Do you remember that?

Oh, yes.

Yes.

Oh no, they still swim in the deep, quiet pools of our modern rivers, just waiting beneath the surface.

Now, if you ever find yourself wandering the western highlands of Scotland, looking out past Oban, you'll see the Isle of Lismore rising up out of the water like the spine of some ancient sleeping leviathan.

The name itself comes from the Gaelic Lios Mór, meaning the great garden.

Unlike the harsh craggy granite of the surrounding highlands, Lismore is a strip of fertile limestone.

It's green, it's lush, and for thousands of years, it's been a place steeped in the sacred and the strange.

Places like Lismore have a way of holding on to the old magic.

The veil there isn't just thin.

In some spots, it's practically torn right through.