Ireland broods--sea, sky, and landscape. Lush greens surrender to rocky, windswept heath and hills. Clouds from purest white to deepest gray both race and lumber across a panorama of crystalline sky to cast any day in a new pattern of changeable light. The sea--ever beautiful, always charismatic--has oftentimes shed any inviting tropical shimmer and usually glints steely-cool, commanding respect, invoking awe. The moody teen (at least, according to my siblings) has given way to a woman who broods, and perhaps the Irish setting speaks to that facet of me.
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