It is human nature to think that the grass is greener on the other side … of the fence … of the country … of the Pond. From a distance the neighbor’s lawn appears weed free. Some Easterners, on a winter’s day when all the leaves are brown and the sky is gray, are California dreaming. They want to go to San Francisco, see the Golden Gate Bridge and dip their toes in the Pacific Ocean. Likewise, some folks on the West Coast are attracted to New York City with its Times Square and Great White Way.
There’s a mystique about Ireland, its plentiful rainfall and green grass. I had the privilege of visiting Ireland last week. I can attest to the fact that it rained more in Wevertown because my grass is as green as any I saw on the Emerald Isle.
My maiden name was McClasky, and I’ve always hoped that I had a wee bit of Irish in me. 2013 is being promoted in Ireland as the year of “The Gathering.” I loved the old towns, narrow roads, beautiful scenery and the warmth of the people, the lilt of their speech and accents.
My favorite place was Dunmore by the Sea, a quaint fishing village where we visited an old pub with a thatched roof. The entertainer played guitar and sang many familiar Irish songs plus one that was new to me called “The Voyage” — “Life is an ocean, love is a boat. In troubled waters it keeps us afloat.”
I’ll close with an Irish blessing:
Wherever you go, whatever you do
May the luck of the Irish be there with you.