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The sun a sullen distant heatless disc – wrote Colm Keegan Irish poet in his “January Train”. Because dull, voiceless, gray, heavy, gloomy, lethargic – they are the words which can describe January in Ireland. And I was already preparing a text about dark days and my blue mood. Meanwhile, the sun woke up and brightened up our local world, though not for all days.
However, this shy sun pulled back the heavy but leaky curtains of my heart. When in the morning is still berry blue below the city, and I cycle to work, birds are twittering very lough. Their morning songs even pierce the whir of cars. So, on one side I pass herons landing on Lough Atalia, and delivery trucks passing me. Further beyond the crossroad go fewer cars, but there are more small houses and gardens.
When I leave work at 4 p.m. it is still quite light and I have the passion to go downtown for the last bread from a French bakery, or for a cake called Pear’s Paw Bear to C’est la vie!, another traditional French Boulangerie (“This is life”) in Terryland.
Recently, I heard on the radio that our life is like a zebra crossing. We see in it sometimes only dark, sometimes white stripes, or all at once. And there is something in this metaphor because when I wanted to give myself over to the stereotypical images of January, it was hard to open my eyes in the morning. The roar of the storm awaked me, and I drank rain instead of coffee. Now, I can notice brighter colors and it is indeed a bit transparent outside, so my morning espresso tastes like the nice beginning, and my porridge with dates is like a cozy vest.
Galway awakens from winter hibernation together with me. I walk more often on Shop Street and catch the beats of the Galway Buskers guitars. After the morning alarm clock, January train honks on the nearby viaduct and I like to hear it. This train will go through Ballinasloe as in the poet’s poem. Check out what is happening in your local world?