Failte!

I'm excited to share my adventures with all of you! I want your first taste of my life in Ireland to be this poem that I wrote very late one night when I was a Junior in College. Its meaning seems eerily prophetic now. More than anything, I've created this blog to make the actualization of this life-long dream of mine visible to those I love: my friends who are my foundation, my endlessly supportive family, my mentors and co-workers who inspire me, and my former students who have given me enough satisfaction and fulfillment to last two lifetimes... Have the courage to believe that your wildest dreams can come true.

Is fhearr fheuchainn na bhith san duil, (It is better to try than to hope)

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Mourn (A Seaside Peak in Southern Ireland)

The dark, earthen sod saturates her fair feet,
but briefly since she frolics fast in knee high
blades of greenest grass that blow dizzily in the Celtic-sea air.

Her wool skirt, stiffened by ware of evenings past
is splashed by cresting waves that break
against a beach blacker than her hair.
Those once stiffer fibers were loosed by nights upon nights
of hanging perfectly on his line before being wildly blown dry
by the crisp Hibernian salt air.

The pair sits to rest a while instead of dodging
breakers or skipping paler stones.

"Indian summer's here," he says softly,
but all of summer here feels like the edge

of autumn to her, even though she grins in agreement

as she dangles her pale, soft feet off Achilles' peak,
where Erin's vermillion-gold sky meets
an ocean that is grey with years.

She sleeps with her eyes closed tight most nights.
He asks her if she believes in Tier-Nan-Og,
and she asks him if he believes in anything eternal.
Outside the tide is rising, or it's receding—
She never can tell but for the strengthened smell of
salty freshness strained through his light, lace curtains.

She thinks to herself that he is like trying to hold the sea

and she imagines the water running between her fingers--
clenched so tight.

And so, the night calls her out of her sleeping,
like daytime chides her into dreaming.
She slips her white fingers through the holes of an old loose scarf
that affords her more company than warmth
on these newborn autumn evenings. She is off--
Night clouds reflect emerald from land to sea,
And the tara that she never eyes from long hours of
staring too far into star blanketed skies,
feels cool against the thickening pads of her pallid feet.

Elisabeth Lewis (2005)

26 October 2011

happy humpday.

What are you happy about today?
Trees between My house and the Canal, Charlemont Street.
 10. Laying awake, all bundled up in bed from 7:30 to 8:30 this morning. Just thinking :)
9. British Chocolate. It's SO much better.
8. The smell of Autumn outside. Is it burning leaves? Chimney smoke? Heaven?
7. Downton Abbey. It's a Masterpiece Theatre program set in WWI era England. 
6. Showing PowerPoint who's boss.
5. The fact that I'm already packed to leave in 8 days--yeah, I'm an early packer, it's one of my things.
4. warm, fresh, delicious smelling Laundry
3. Booking an 18 hour train ride--with 4 hours in the middle spent in DC for breakfast
2. Delta Rae and their awesome feel good music
1. Just stopping on a long walk, breathing deeply, looking around, and realizing that the city I have chosen to live in is so amazingly beautiful in so many ways.
View of the mountains and rooftops on the way to Ranelagh
Wish me luck on my presentation tomorrow! It's on Issues in Environmental Archaeology in Prehistory like Neolithic woodland management, Iron Age farming + climate change, and technological advancements in pollen analysis. Reid says if you need help falling asleep, it would be a good read!





1 comment:

  1. Good luck on your presentation! I'm sure you'll do a great job! Looking forward to skyping on Saturday.

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