Staring at the Stars

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I remembered how is the feeling when you stare at stars. There are thousands of them, in front of a small white cottage with a red door in Connemara. We raise our heads up and contemplate sparkling points on a brisk night at the end of October.

Orion, the Big Dipper, and the Lesser Dipper. Autumn is blowing on our jackets. However, it is wonderful to stand on the rocky coastline with wild hills all around in the dark and with friends.

photo by Nuno

Meanwhile, in the cottage, in the grandma’s stove, coal glows. Laughter and humming of cutlery at the round wooden table are mixed with shouts of “Uno”. Outside the window, the river mixes with the Atlantic Ocean. I can see her through the green window frame between the huge basil leaves. Behind the gate, on a local street, a sign “slow” displays every day like a mantra, so I am hugging these moments unhurriedly.

Our sheep neighbors run up and make “baa” as if they wanted to pass to us some gossip. Camila and I answer them “baa”, too. Then I listen to what the pink shamrock and the thin moon have to say.

In the wild port, chamomiles got tangled in turquoise nets. When we wander the winding roads, Bia’s fuchsia sweater shines on the background of fairy-tale landscapes. At the beach, some people take off their shoes and wade in the icy waves of the ocean. Brazilian cassava sizzles in the pot and the charcoal in grandma’s stove is smooth and flat like stones I pick up out of the way. White quartz shimmers between them.

I’m back now, but the pebbles are still in my pocket because the wind won’t blow me over in Galway winds. 🙂 The road sign “slow” keeps appearing in front of my eyes. So I don’t run up the stairs. I’m waiting for the stars.

Thank you Marian for making your cozy cottage available to us in the middle of beautiful Connemara. – Bia, Jack, Camila, Nuno, Gosia and Maciek.

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