phoenix

Day 36: Erin grá mo chrói

I happened to mention Ireland in my last post and that, coupled with the gentle prodding text of a dear friend, has me again thinking about that little island on the eastern edge of the Atlantic.  I have intentionally chosen to refrain from writing much about it in the past because I always had the nagging fear that my words, no matter how earnestly written or how cleverly edited, would never be able to reliably capture the experience of setting foot upon the stereotypically green soil of that ancient and often misunderstood land. But sitting here now, on the crumbling edge of what seemingly remains of our previous civilization, I realize that there really isn’t much left to lose.  So buckle up. The flight out of …

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