There are thousands of them across the country and the richness of their origins goes a long way to describing the activities, farm systems, flora and fauna, and so much more that forms the folklore and history of our country.

I grew up in Wicklow and there’s 1,370 townlands in that county alone. My home place was Ballintemple, a common enough townland name that translates into the place of the church. And sure enough there are the ruins of an old church and graveyard.

Ballycoogue was the next townland and when I was going to school we were told it meant place of the jackdaws, so any time the school choir wasn’t up to scratch, our school master Mr O’Boyle used to tell us we were well named. However according to Wicklow Heritage, the townland is probably named after Cúug, a member of the O’Byrne clan – a prominent family in the county.

Further up the road, Ballinasillogue translates into place of the roasting spits, which means it was a place of celebration. Then you come to the townland of Ballinagore, through which the Goldmines River flows. This translates into place of the gold and sure enough for three years between 1795 and 1798 British forces blasted the river and mined 245kg of gold in the process. In today’s money, that would be a cool €10m, which working back was worth over €1.41bn – an astronomical amount in the 18th century. And there’s still gold there today but not enough to make it a commercial proposition. Our neighbour, the late Mary Ellen Byrne, was an expert at panning for gold and was rewarded with a few nice nuggets.

We are surrounded by an amazing number of townlands and thankfully most of them are documented. The same can’t be said for the field names of Ireland and this is a terrible shame. Credit goes to John McCullen who, along with a great voluntary support group, put together a history of the field names of Meath and Louth, and David Thompson, who is doing the same for Limerick. As farms change hands, or are leased long term outside the family, the field names will disappear and we will lose a rich slice of our heritage in the process.

I hadn’t intended to write about townland names this week but for the fact that I was in a place called Spink on Sunday. Near Abbeyleix in Co Laois, Spink is neither a townland nor a village. I looked up the meaning of the word and it may refer to a nickname for the chaffinch or its call. Anyway, I was in Spink to speak at the Buds and Blossoms garden festival and I had a lovely day. We arrived in the middle of a downpour and I honestly thought we wouldn’t be able to get out of the car. The event is in its second year and was very well organised by Spink GAA and Laois Garden Trail, with support from Laois County Council. As many as 24 specialist nurseries were there selling a fine selection of trees, shrubs and flowers, plus there was lots more going on.

So much work goes into planning such an event; it’s a terrible shame when the weather doesn’t cooperate. So here’s to more seasonal weather for next year. In the meantime I must look up the meaning of The Swan and Pike of Rushall – two of the more exotically named Laois townlands.