Green hills roll by, lots of little women with little scarves on their heads, and pretty skirts with patchwork. Lush greenery, untouched land, lots of rocks and lots of myths floating around the horizon.
Ireland. The land of my dreams. I can't remember ever being so content, so satisfied. All just because I can see the scapes of Ireland. Cobh, Dublin, Cork, Galway, Waterford. All of it.
When realization dawns, I am struck. Spell-bound. I just saw an entire country zoom past my eyes, even though I have never been there. Never seen it. The only times I have seen this beautiful land is through the eyes of one of my favourite authors, Nora Roberts and Mauve Binchy. Most people read her because she writes irresistable romance weaved intricately with thrillers and suspense. I read her works because they describe Ireland to me. And all things Irish. The Gaelic language, Gaelic mythology, thier stories, their faith in faeries, princes living within the mountains and hills and their little tales about jewels on the moon, sun and within the sea. Its about celtic myths and folklores.
Ireland is about the warm people who tell tall tales knowing that they are accepted as tall tales. Its about chilling with a keg of beer or relaxing after a tedious day with a pint of Guinness.
Did you know that the post box has been invented in Ireland?? When on the way to USA, I will definately try to get a stopover in Ireland. I know its a ridiculous thing to wish for, but if I can, I want to catch a glimpse of the country that has captivated me so. That has arrested me with it'z undeniable charm, and beauty. And its underlying current of culture, ethos, myths and mystical stories.
But I dont want to just see Ireland, I want to feel it, strengthen my faith in it and live in it. Thanks Muave Binchy, because you introduced me to the real Ireland, and the people there and the life there. And thanks Nora Roaberts, because you introduced me to the beauty, charm and culture of it.