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This is the story of Shinrone:
a village, its people, and its history.

“With curiosity and through meaningful conversation, we will respectfully discover and collate the unique stories and values of Shinrone with the end goal of developing a picture of the village that is true to its character, celebratory of its history, representative of its present and beneficial to its future.”

Finding Shinrone is a snapshot of a village, its people and its history. This project was produced by srudents of the Cultural Event Management postgraduate course at the Institute of Art, Design and Technology Dún Laoghaire in collaboration with the people of Shinrone and with the help of Bellefield House and Joe Cleary.

Bellefield: A Living Landscape

Bellefield: A Living Landscape

The Legend of Knockshigowna and Folklore in Children’s Lives Today

The Legend of Knockshigowna and Folklore in Children’s Lives Today

The Field of Wishes

The Field of Wishes

Now And Then

Now And Then

Trees, Bees & Neighbours

Celtic Permaculture, 53.007586 -7.941414

In conversation with: Rory & Jennifer Fogerty

Thirty years ago, Rory left Ireland for New Zealand, chasing clean air for his asthmatic son and a simpler life. There, he found everything he’d hoped for: space, fresh air, and community. Jennifer came into the picture later, and together they turned their fifteen-acre property into a small haven of self-sufficiency. He built a life around the land, first as a gardener, then as a teacher. “We began teaching local schoolchildren how to grow vegetables,” he recalls. By the time they left, more than a thousand children had passed through their garden gates, and he proudly helped the local school establish its own garden, which still feeds students and grows gourds for the music class.


New Zealand suited them for nearly three decades, but when their children returned to Europe, and local environmental protections were rolled back, Rory and his wife Jennifer decided it was time to come home. Their plan was to find land suitable for teaching permaculture, and on their journey from Dublin to Cork, they stopped almost by chance at a small property near the Offaly village of Shinrone. “We looked around on Friday. By Sunday, the deal was done,” Rory laughs. It had everything they needed: enough land, a large shed, space for teaching, and room for visitors.


Rory’s experience teaching a year-long Permaculture Design Course in New Zealand shaped his vision for Ireland. He wants to do the same here, where the climate makes the relationship between soil, water, and plants even more visible.


The couple’s sixteen-acre farm is steadily taking shape as a living classroom. One of the biggest changes on the Shinrone land is the tree planting. Rory and Jennifer have planted around 11,000 trees along the fence line and across the property, transforming what was once grazing pasture into a young woodland. Rory lists them off like close friends: oak, cherry, alder, chestnut, beech, and willow. Oak dominates because of its strength and biodiversity value. “It supports thousands of species,” he says. “We’re not planting for ourselves, but for what comes after us.” The willow, about 250 trees, may one day become baskets or woven garden structures. “They’ll be rough at first,” he grins, “but that’s part of it. Permaculture’s about finding value in what the land gives you.”


They’ve also created a wildlife pond, planted heritage apple trees through the Hare’s Corner project, and a swale — a shallow, curved ditch dug along the contour of the land to slow and absorb rainwater. “When it rains,” Rory explains, “the water sinks in rather than running off. It feeds everything downhill.” In Shinrone’s wet climate, these simple earthworks turn excess rain into a resource.


Much of the farm is planned with this logic in mind. Compost systems sit near the house so nutrients can feed down through the site. A polytunnel now gives them a better chance of growing vegetables in the Irish weather, after an earlier attempt outdoors produced very little. Inside, they use soil blocks instead of plastic pots, keeping the operation low-waste. Rory is also imagining a greenhouse or geodesic dome, possibly woven with living willow, as another productive and beautiful structure on the land.

This commitment extends to energy too. Solar panels now line the roof, charging both a household battery and an electric car. The system runs efficiently: panels power the house by day, and the battery stores surplus for evening use. Appliances hum at night on off-peak rates, and the couple now eat their main meal at lunchtime when the sun is strongest. “For half the year we actually get money back,” Rory says with pride. “It’ll pay for itself in six or seven years.”


Every piece is part of a broader philosophy. “Permaculture isn’t just gardening,” Rory says. “It’s a way of life — caring for the earth, for people, and for the fair share, or what I call the ‘distribution of surplus.’” In his view, that surplus could be food, knowledge, or time. “If you care for the earth, you’ll have abundance. If you care for people, you’ll have community. And if you live properly, you’ll always have something to share.”


Community matters just as much as ecology. Rory and Jennifer hope to host courses, open days, and local permaculture gatherings in Shinrone, where neighbours have so far been encouraging about the tree planting. Rory wants to help build a culture of resilience, exchange, and practical care — one that connects older Irish farming traditions with modern permaculture language.


He hopes to see neighbours and students connect as they did in New Zealand, where locals maintained his garden while he recovered from a heart attack. “They weeded, harvested, took what they needed and kept it going. That’s what real community looks like.”


The couple see signs of that spirit in Shinrone already — in the neighbour who turned up after a storm to fix a blown-off chimney, in the long chats at the village shop, in nearby Cloughjordan Ecovillage where low-carbon living is practiced collectively. “It feels possible here,” Rory says. “The bones of that culture are still strong.”


After years of teaching and planting in New Zealand, they are now doing the same in Offaly. The young woodland is still taking shape, but the direction is clear: trees, water, soil, energy, and people all working together. For Rory, that is what permaculture means. It is living in harmony with nature and letting the land become more abundant for whoever comes next.


Standing on the swale bank, he looks over the rows of saplings, the half-built beds, the distant pond. “Come back in a couple of years,” he says. “It’ll be even better.”

Celtic Permaculture53.007586 -7.941414
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