Chlíodhna

Daughter of Manannán Mac Lir, lord of the sea. Fairy queen of Munster. Goddess of beauty, of water, of the threshold between this world and the next.

She kept three birds whose song healed the sick and called the dying home. They fed on golden apples from a tree with leaves of silver in Tír Tairngire — the Land of Promise — where she ruled in light that never failed.

It bored her. So she walked the Cork coast in mortal shape, the most beautiful woman the world had seen, and men fell at her feet. She took them. She left them.

When she ran with Ciabhan of the Curling Lock she crossed a line the Otherworld would not forgive. While he hunted, she slept on the strand at Glandore. A great wave rose at the gods' command and carried her home. She was never allowed to return.

The wave still breaks where she was taken. They call it Tonn Chlíodhna — Cliodhna's Wave — and on certain nights along the harbor it sounds like a woman calling.

The clock above counts the time since she started over.