To The Waters And The Wild.....

One of my favourite poems, "The Stolen Child" by W.B. Yeats, has provided me with a line that I feel is perfect for this post title.

Incidentally, that poem is very special for me as it was the one I read with huge emotion, at fourteen years of age, to our English class taught by drama teacher, Mr. Rogers. When the bell rang and everyone was rushing to leave, Mr. Rogers called me up and suggested I join his drama school. Alas, owing to my parents not having the necessary spondoolicks, it never came to pass. Of course, many, many years later my dream was realised!

It was on a wet and extremely windy February afternoon that hubby and I set off for Ballydonegan Pier, Allihies, West Cork. On approaching the pier, my nostrils now filled with sea spray and the smell of seaweed, in my head I was once more back on the slipway of a pre-1970s Ringsend, Dublin.

Each footstep on the slippery slipway cobblestones brought back memories of hours spent watching the men hawl up their rowing boats and securing them to the sea wall, running screaming from the crabs still walking around after a catch or just standing on my own, after my friend had gone home, staring out to sea.

I considered myself blessed to have experienced the sea giving one of her finest performances with the mist providing the perfect backdrop. She was at her wildest. I was in Heaven.

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