On Sunday morning I make scrambled eggs with fresh basil and olive oil. And the first song which I hear is called Yellow.
Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
and everything you do
Coldplay “Yellow”
People who appear in my life are like stars. They make streams of light illuminate various spaces during my journey. Old and new friends.
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You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.
Mark Twain
On a warm afternoon, Marisol, Jacek, Marcin and I, arrive at Menlo Pier, just 4 km from Galway. Jim Morrissey from Kayakmór sits on the bench in front of the water, we say hello and we keep waiting for a few more people. Behind the car, we change into wetsuits, put on matching life jackets. Yellow, orange, red, and blue kayaks gleam on the shore against the background of the sweet flag.
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Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing
From song Fields of Athenry
When after a long time I dared on a solo trip outside Galway, I met an adventure that I had never dreamed about. On Sunday morning, I packed my blue bike onto the train and went to Athenry, only two stops. Next, I headed by Tuam Road to Castle Ellen House, for the exhibition ‘Town and Country.
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At magical Kenneys Bookshop & Art Gallery, I had no idea I was walking over to a bookshelf with poetry. I realized it when I pulled a thin publication from the shelf with the interesting title The Elephant in the Corner. The poems it contained reminded me of the taste of every morning coffee I drunk on a graphite sofa or in completely unfamiliar chairs. Aoife Mannix – an Irish poet born in Sweden knows the smell of rented furniture and she does not afraid to present emotions that I am sometimes scared to admit, although they live with me.
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On a summer afternoon, we met at Nimmo’s Pier in Galway. River Corrib in Claddagh Quay flowed calmly and was a deep blue color. We took bags and litter keepers, which were brought by Tiarnan McCusker – Galway City Environmental Awareness Officer. I had gloves from a few previous coastal clean-up with Wave Makers. We parked our bikes next to the meadow and moved towards blue and green.
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Dominick Street in Galway is bustling with an old-school glow. The chief carries a tray full of eggs from one cafe to another. Beer kegs meditate on the sidewalk in front of a yellow door with a rustic knocker.
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May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back.
Irish proverb
Summer in Ireland has 14 degrees, and rain is usually on hand. However, there is some unusual feature of this country that always makes me feel that I am on the way. Because when I discover new beaches, various types of flowers and grasses, and visit fishing villages like Kinvara, I experience the magic and the weather does not determine it.
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When the sun is shining, Connemara looks like a fairy-tale land. Lush green spills onto the road like a cocktail of parsley and kiwi. It mixes with navy streams and sea-pink Armeria Maritima for several dozen kilometers. Magic mountains reign under the sky, and at their foot the most beautiful turquoise I have ever seen is glazed.
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I sit down on a stone by the R336 in the Maan Valley. The asphalt is quiet. Along the side of the road, one sheep walks. Thin black legs wobble slightly on the grey rocks. I take a sip of coffee from an orange mug. Brown giants – Maamturk watch me gently. A moment ago I have doubted the sense of being. Now, I contemplate a magical or ordinary fragment that is just happening.
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A few years ago, I got an idea for a book about middle-aged women who consistently work with passion. In Ireland’s humid and changeable climate, I met many self-satisfied women, and they made me love my graying hair. I made interviews to find out how they keep fire in their hearts and shape into action. However, when I wrote seven chapters, I locked them in a file for four years. Not because I didn’t want to continue with this idea, but simply because I didn’t organize my time to work on the book.
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