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Last Tuesday

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  • colmbolmcolm
    Last Tuesday two friends and I took a trip into the wild west...of Ireland, that is. Galway is one of the biggest counties in Ireland but remained only
    Message 1 of 3 , Mar 3, 2005
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      Last Tuesday two friends and I took a trip into the wild west...of
      Ireland, that is. Galway is one of the biggest counties in Ireland
      but remained only partially explored by me. The beauty known to me in
      East-Galway was only the tip of the iceberg.

      On Monday night I entered the kitchen to find two excited children
      packing their lunch for the big adventure. Vegetable packed
      sandwiches, one bowl of colourful salad, another stuffed with potato
      salad, lay on the table. Richie and Libby had packed only the best
      food for a day of trekking and hiking. I looked out the window and it
      was still drizzling, as it had been all day.

      During Tuesday morning meditation I was peace. I opened the front
      door and the world was also peace. The warm colourful glow of the
      rising sun was hosted by a clear blue sky into which the stars had
      just faded. Cold, crisp air hosted a puff of breath. A hearty
      breakfast, a bit of preparation and we were away. The traffic was
      heavy for those coming into town to work, but we just whisked by in
      the opposite direction.

      The drive itself was an adventure. The road meandered around lakes
      and hills and elevated itself over marshy bog land, all whilst a
      large amber globe hung in the mirror. The sun, like you never see it
      in Ireland, was coming up behind us. It was one of those suns you
      could look at without hurting your eyes. It gave a golden kiss to the
      landscape. The lakes were molten where light fell upon them, stone
      black and bottomless otherwise. The mountains rose abruptly up from
      the plains of golden marsh without any hills around them to announce
      their substantial presence.

      We drove past a small mountain range and then the Twelve Pin
      Mountains were in sight. The name of this range suggests their
      appearance. We left the main road and drove up a wandering road for
      quite some time. Save for a small house and the road in front us, all
      civilisation was now out of sight. We parked up beside a small river
      and a wood which we would walk through on our way back. From our
      starting point the sun had not yet reached around the mountains to
      warm us, but I predicted the best route so as to have the most sun. We
      set off on the road for a bit until it deviated from our direction.
      The first bit of trekking led us directly towards a large hill on
      which stood a communications mast. The sun's rays quickly burst by the
      mountains to light our way. On lower ground we plodded through marsh.
      The ground beneath our feet jiggled with each step, like a large
      marshmallow absorbed in tea. On higher ground we tramped over a
      blanket of natural hay. It was so light under our feet, like walking
      through the freshest of snow. There was a steep incline of heath near
      the top, but the native sheep had worn pathways to the summit. On the
      edge of peat mounds were icicles which I tried as a refreshing snack.

      On top the view was breathtaking. The communications mast was easy
      to ignore. We tarried not too long because the wind was brisk and
      there was still much to see. On the far side of the hill there was a
      small road right up to the mast which took us right down to the
      bottom. The surface water was frozen in places and we skidded on it
      until we gained sense of the danger of falling on such an incline.
      Our little road led us to a little farm with lots of green grass and
      sheep around it. This marked the point of entry into the evergreen
      woods on our right. We walked on a gravel path but it was below the
      level of the land and acted mainly as a drain. I was okay with a good
      pair of boots, but Richie and Libby had to endure wet feet. Eventually
      the path came to an end and I wasn't sure whether it was wise to
      keep going. However I had a constant view of our destination, which
      was the peak of one of the Twelve Pins. We pushed through the woods
      and Libby pointed out deer tracks, but I was a bit sceptical because
      of all the sheep around too. However, we came to a large opening and
      at the far end a large stag and a doe stopped briefly to stare and
      then danced off between the trees.

      We walked through a few large openings always with our goal in sight,
      and eventually we came to a large motorway of grass which undulated
      up and down through the wood. This brought us onto another large
      routeway, only this time with a stream running down its centre. Ahead
      it opened up directly towards the mountains and the sun shone
      straight down it with no resistance. The short grass of banks of the
      stream made for an excellent picnic area. We plonked ourselves down
      and indulged in a wholesome lunch.

      The woods had been a bit sketchy in terms of location, but leaving the
      wood for higher ground there was nothing but clarity. We made for the
      ridge between two mountains. From there getting to the top of
      both was easy. We would climb for a few minutes, then stop to catch
      our breath and take in the scenery and then take off again. Our
      hearts were beating strongly as our feet pounded into the ground for
      grip. But the gradient eased off and it was a stroll to the ridge. A
      strong wind blew up over it and penetrated our jackets. We found more
      icicles, big enough for Richie and me to claim one each as a sword
      and to have a brief duel. Libby relaxed her legs and lay down to gaze
      upon the vastness of the scenery, while Richie and I walked up to the
      summit of the smaller mountain. Our eyes took in one of those views
      that are impossible to describe but one tries anyway. The sun, still
      shining brightly, created a mystical haze which made the scenery look
      all the more surreal. In the distance there were speckles of the
      glistening lakes which honeycombed the landscape as far as the
      coastline.

      Back at the ridge we could see our descent to the woods on the far
      side where the van was parked, but I still had plenty of energy and
      the second, much higher mountain was calling me. Richie and Libby
      strolled down through bog land while I raced up the incline. They
      could see me the whole way up, although eventually they turned into
      dots. It was quite safe as a fence ran partially to the top, although
      for the last bit I had to be a little wary. The gradient was
      comfortable enough to climb, but loose gravel was displaced downwards
      under my feet. I reached the summit and it seemed familiar; it was
      peace, tremendous peace. I couldn't believe that the wind was so
      still in contrast to its strength down below. The universe was
      tranquillity. From there, the other mountain looked like a hill and I
      could see in almost every direction. Inlets and islands captivated
      the coastline and beside Clew Bay a beautiful mountain stood in
      solitude gazing out into the sea. I sat down and sent vibrations
      soaring through the silence as I chanted a mantra until my lungs
      resonated with intensity. Then I was silent and overwhelmed.

      I tried racing down the mountain but could only go so fast because of
      the steep decline and slippery, marshy ground. When I was close to
      Richie and Libby, I thought it would be a sight to try and run down. I
      hopped and skipped and bounced and leapt into the air, but somehow
      managed to keep my footing. I was greeted by laughter as Richie told
      me how he had slipped and fallen four times. His backside was soaked
      and mucky. We plodded onwards until we reached the woods. First we
      had to walk through streams which flowed over large smooth rocks laid
      down for machines. We hopped across stepping stones and splashed in
      shallow water. A gravel road led us back to the car, but we strolled
      at snails pace because it was very tough to leave such beauty
      behind.



      [Great article, Colm! The ending is a little abrupt - maybe you
      could use a good closer sentence. -Assistant Moderator]
    • smarana31
      Wow, thanks for the holiday! While I was reading your essay, I felt like being in Ireland and going on a trip with three people; you wrote it so living that in
      Message 2 of 3 , Mar 4, 2005
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        Wow, thanks for the holiday!

        While I was reading your essay, I felt like being in Ireland and
        going on a trip with three people; you wrote it so living that in
        the time of reading it, I felt that I am on a holiday, on a
        beautiful island.

        Greetings from a beautiful country in the Alps
        Smarana


        --- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, colmbolmcolm
        <no_reply@y...> wrote:
        > Last Tuesday two friends and I took a trip into the wild west...of
        > Ireland, that is. Galway is one of the biggest counties in Ireland
        > but remained only partially explored by me. The beauty known to me
        in
        > East-Galway was only the tip of the iceberg.
        >
        > On Monday night I entered the kitchen to find two excited children
        > packing their lunch for the big adventure. Vegetable packed
        > sandwiches, one bowl of colourful salad, another stuffed with
        potato
        > salad, lay on the table. Richie and Libby had packed only the best
        > food for a day of trekking and hiking. I looked out the window and
        it
        > was still drizzling, as it had been all day.
        >
        > During Tuesday morning meditation I was peace. I opened the front
        > door and the world was also peace. The warm colourful glow of the
        > rising sun was hosted by a clear blue sky into which the stars had
        > just faded. Cold, crisp air hosted a puff of breath. A hearty
        > breakfast, a bit of preparation and we were away. The traffic was
        > heavy for those coming into town to work, but we just whisked by
        in
        > the opposite direction.
        >
        > The drive itself was an adventure. The road meandered around lakes
        > and hills and elevated itself over marshy bog land, all whilst a
        > large amber globe hung in the mirror. The sun, like you never see
        it
        > in Ireland, was coming up behind us. It was one of those suns you
        > could look at without hurting your eyes. It gave a golden kiss to
        the
        > landscape. The lakes were molten where light fell upon them, stone
        > black and bottomless otherwise. The mountains rose abruptly up
        from
        > the plains of golden marsh without any hills around them to
        announce
        > their substantial presence.
        >
        > We drove past a small mountain range and then the Twelve Pin
        > Mountains were in sight. The name of this range suggests their
        > appearance. We left the main road and drove up a wandering road
        for
        > quite some time. Save for a small house and the road in front us,
        all
        > civilisation was now out of sight. We parked up beside a small
        river
        > and a wood which we would walk through on our way back. From our
        > starting point the sun had not yet reached around the mountains to
        > warm us, but I predicted the best route so as to have the most
        sun. We
        > set off on the road for a bit until it deviated from our
        direction.
        > The first bit of trekking led us directly towards a large hill on
        > which stood a communications mast. The sun's rays quickly burst by
        the
        > mountains to light our way. On lower ground we plodded through
        marsh.
        > The ground beneath our feet jiggled with each step, like a large
        > marshmallow absorbed in tea. On higher ground we tramped over a
        > blanket of natural hay. It was so light under our feet, like
        walking
        > through the freshest of snow. There was a steep incline of heath
        near
        > the top, but the native sheep had worn pathways to the summit. On
        the
        > edge of peat mounds were icicles which I tried as a refreshing
        snack.
        >
        > On top the view was breathtaking. The communications mast was easy
        > to ignore. We tarried not too long because the wind was brisk and
        > there was still much to see. On the far side of the hill there was
        a
        > small road right up to the mast which took us right down to the
        > bottom. The surface water was frozen in places and we skidded on
        it
        > until we gained sense of the danger of falling on such an incline.
        > Our little road led us to a little farm with lots of green grass
        and
        > sheep around it. This marked the point of entry into the evergreen
        > woods on our right. We walked on a gravel path but it was below
        the
        > level of the land and acted mainly as a drain. I was okay with a
        good
        > pair of boots, but Richie and Libby had to endure wet feet.
        Eventually
        > the path came to an end and I wasn't sure whether it was wise to
        > keep going. However I had a constant view of our destination,
        which
        > was the peak of one of the Twelve Pins. We pushed through the
        woods
        > and Libby pointed out deer tracks, but I was a bit sceptical
        because
        > of all the sheep around too. However, we came to a large opening
        and
        > at the far end a large stag and a doe stopped briefly to stare and
        > then danced off between the trees.
        >
        > We walked through a few large openings always with our goal in
        sight,
        > and eventually we came to a large motorway of grass which
        undulated
        > up and down through the wood. This brought us onto another large
        > routeway, only this time with a stream running down its centre.
        Ahead
        > it opened up directly towards the mountains and the sun shone
        > straight down it with no resistance. The short grass of banks of
        the
        > stream made for an excellent picnic area. We plonked ourselves
        down
        > and indulged in a wholesome lunch.
        >
        > The woods had been a bit sketchy in terms of location, but leaving
        the
        > wood for higher ground there was nothing but clarity. We made for
        the
        > ridge between two mountains. From there getting to the top of
        > both was easy. We would climb for a few minutes, then stop to
        catch
        > our breath and take in the scenery and then take off again. Our
        > hearts were beating strongly as our feet pounded into the ground
        for
        > grip. But the gradient eased off and it was a stroll to the ridge.
        A
        > strong wind blew up over it and penetrated our jackets. We found
        more
        > icicles, big enough for Richie and me to claim one each as a sword
        > and to have a brief duel. Libby relaxed her legs and lay down to
        gaze
        > upon the vastness of the scenery, while Richie and I walked up to
        the
        > summit of the smaller mountain. Our eyes took in one of those
        views
        > that are impossible to describe but one tries anyway. The sun,
        still
        > shining brightly, created a mystical haze which made the scenery
        look
        > all the more surreal. In the distance there were speckles of the
        > glistening lakes which honeycombed the landscape as far as the
        > coastline.
        >
        > Back at the ridge we could see our descent to the woods on the far
        > side where the van was parked, but I still had plenty of energy
        and
        > the second, much higher mountain was calling me. Richie and Libby
        > strolled down through bog land while I raced up the incline. They
        > could see me the whole way up, although eventually they turned
        into
        > dots. It was quite safe as a fence ran partially to the top,
        although
        > for the last bit I had to be a little wary. The gradient was
        > comfortable enough to climb, but loose gravel was displaced
        downwards
        > under my feet. I reached the summit and it seemed familiar; it was
        > peace, tremendous peace. I couldn't believe that the wind was so
        > still in contrast to its strength down below. The universe was
        > tranquillity. From there, the other mountain looked like a hill
        and I
        > could see in almost every direction. Inlets and islands captivated
        > the coastline and beside Clew Bay a beautiful mountain stood in
        > solitude gazing out into the sea. I sat down and sent vibrations
        > soaring through the silence as I chanted a mantra until my lungs
        > resonated with intensity. Then I was silent and overwhelmed.
        >
        > I tried racing down the mountain but could only go so fast because
        of
        > the steep decline and slippery, marshy ground. When I was close to
        > Richie and Libby, I thought it would be a sight to try and run
        down. I
        > hopped and skipped and bounced and leapt into the air, but somehow
        > managed to keep my footing. I was greeted by laughter as Richie
        told
        > me how he had slipped and fallen four times. His backside was
        soaked
        > and mucky. We plodded onwards until we reached the woods. First we
        > had to walk through streams which flowed over large smooth rocks
        laid
        > down for machines. We hopped across stepping stones and splashed
        in
        > shallow water. A gravel road led us back to the car, but we
        strolled
        > at snails pace because it was very tough to leave such beauty
        > behind.
        >
        >
        >
        > [Great article, Colm! The ending is a little abrupt - maybe you
        > could use a good closer sentence. -Assistant Moderator]
      • niriha7
        Dear Colm, Other than worring about Richie and Libby s cold and wet feet, I liked this very much. Being an older sister of many younger siblings, it threw me
        Message 3 of 3 , Mar 4, 2005
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          Dear Colm, Other than worring about Richie and Libby's cold and wet
          feet, I liked this very much. Being an older sister of many younger
          siblings, it threw me back into a mode of discomfort on their
          behalf. Nevertheless, after reading it I thought, *How did he
          remember so much detail?* It was so easy to visualize this beautiful
          place because of the way you write about it. I truly felt like I was
          a fourth member of this adventure. You did not know I was there
          because I lagged behind.

          With all due respect to the Assistant Moderator and his suggestion,
          I liked the ending because as the reader, I also did not want to
          leave such beauty behind. The way you ended it left me right there.
          Thank you very much. I will worry about getting home some other
          time.

          Please go on more adventures and write about them. Take Shane with
          you. That should add a very interesting dimension to any adventure.
          This was excellent. Niriha

          PS I take it that Libby and Richie are your brave younger sister and
          brother?



          --- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, colmbolmcolm
          <no_reply@y...> wrote:
          >
          > Last Tuesday two friends and I took a trip into the wild west...of
          > Ireland, that is. Galway is one of the biggest counties in Ireland
          > but remained only partially explored by me. The beauty known to me
          in
          > East-Galway was only the tip of the iceberg.
          >
          > On Monday night I entered the kitchen to find two excited children
          > packing their lunch for the big adventure. Vegetable packed
          > sandwiches, one bowl of colourful salad, another stuffed with
          potato
          > salad, lay on the table. Richie and Libby had packed only the best
          > food for a day of trekking and hiking. I looked out the window and
          it
          > was still drizzling, as it had been all day.
          >
          > During Tuesday morning meditation I was peace. I opened the front
          > door and the world was also peace. The warm colourful glow of the
          > rising sun was hosted by a clear blue sky into which the stars had
          > just faded. Cold, crisp air hosted a puff of breath. A hearty
          > breakfast, a bit of preparation and we were away. The traffic was
          > heavy for those coming into town to work, but we just whisked by in
          > the opposite direction.
          >
          > The drive itself was an adventure. The road meandered around lakes
          > and hills and elevated itself over marshy bog land, all whilst a
          > large amber globe hung in the mirror. The sun, like you never see
          it
          > in Ireland, was coming up behind us. It was one of those suns you
          > could look at without hurting your eyes. It gave a golden kiss to
          the
          > landscape. The lakes were molten where light fell upon them, stone
          > black and bottomless otherwise. The mountains rose abruptly up from
          > the plains of golden marsh without any hills around them to
          announce
          > their substantial presence.
          >
          > We drove past a small mountain range and then the Twelve Pin
          > Mountains were in sight. The name of this range suggests their
          > appearance. We left the main road and drove up a wandering road for
          > quite some time. Save for a small house and the road in front us,
          all
          > civilisation was now out of sight. We parked up beside a small
          river
          > and a wood which we would walk through on our way back. From our
          > starting point the sun had not yet reached around the mountains to
          > warm us, but I predicted the best route so as to have the most sun.
          We
          > set off on the road for a bit until it deviated from our direction.
          > The first bit of trekking led us directly towards a large hill on
          > which stood a communications mast. The sun's rays quickly burst by
          the
          > mountains to light our way. On lower ground we plodded through
          marsh.
          > The ground beneath our feet jiggled with each step, like a large
          > marshmallow absorbed in tea. On higher ground we tramped over a
          > blanket of natural hay. It was so light under our feet, like
          walking
          > through the freshest of snow. There was a steep incline of heath
          near
          > the top, but the native sheep had worn pathways to the summit. On
          the
          > edge of peat mounds were icicles which I tried as a refreshing
          snack.
          >
          > On top the view was breathtaking. The communications mast was easy
          > to ignore. We tarried not too long because the wind was brisk and
          > there was still much to see. On the far side of the hill there was
          a
          > small road right up to the mast which took us right down to the
          > bottom. The surface water was frozen in places and we skidded on it
          > until we gained sense of the danger of falling on such an incline.
          > Our little road led us to a little farm with lots of green grass
          and
          > sheep around it. This marked the point of entry into the evergreen
          > woods on our right. We walked on a gravel path but it was below the
          > level of the land and acted mainly as a drain. I was okay with a
          good
          > pair of boots, but Richie and Libby had to endure wet feet.
          Eventually
          > the path came to an end and I wasn't sure whether it was wise to
          > keep going. However I had a constant view of our destination, which
          > was the peak of one of the Twelve Pins. We pushed through the woods
          > and Libby pointed out deer tracks, but I was a bit sceptical
          because
          > of all the sheep around too. However, we came to a large opening
          and
          > at the far end a large stag and a doe stopped briefly to stare and
          > then danced off between the trees.
          >
          > We walked through a few large openings always with our goal in
          sight,
          > and eventually we came to a large motorway of grass which undulated
          > up and down through the wood. This brought us onto another large
          > routeway, only this time with a stream running down its centre.
          Ahead
          > it opened up directly towards the mountains and the sun shone
          > straight down it with no resistance. The short grass of banks of
          the
          > stream made for an excellent picnic area. We plonked ourselves down
          > and indulged in a wholesome lunch.
          >
          > The woods had been a bit sketchy in terms of location, but leaving
          the
          > wood for higher ground there was nothing but clarity. We made for
          the
          > ridge between two mountains. From there getting to the top of
          > both was easy. We would climb for a few minutes, then stop to catch
          > our breath and take in the scenery and then take off again. Our
          > hearts were beating strongly as our feet pounded into the ground
          for
          > grip. But the gradient eased off and it was a stroll to the ridge.
          A
          > strong wind blew up over it and penetrated our jackets. We found
          more
          > icicles, big enough for Richie and me to claim one each as a sword
          > and to have a brief duel. Libby relaxed her legs and lay down to
          gaze
          > upon the vastness of the scenery, while Richie and I walked up to
          the
          > summit of the smaller mountain. Our eyes took in one of those views
          > that are impossible to describe but one tries anyway. The sun,
          still
          > shining brightly, created a mystical haze which made the scenery
          look
          > all the more surreal. In the distance there were speckles of the
          > glistening lakes which honeycombed the landscape as far as the
          > coastline.
          >
          > Back at the ridge we could see our descent to the woods on the far
          > side where the van was parked, but I still had plenty of energy and
          > the second, much higher mountain was calling me. Richie and Libby
          > strolled down through bog land while I raced up the incline. They
          > could see me the whole way up, although eventually they turned into
          > dots. It was quite safe as a fence ran partially to the top,
          although
          > for the last bit I had to be a little wary. The gradient was
          > comfortable enough to climb, but loose gravel was displaced
          downwards
          > under my feet. I reached the summit and it seemed familiar; it was
          > peace, tremendous peace. I couldn't believe that the wind was so
          > still in contrast to its strength down below. The universe was
          > tranquillity. From there, the other mountain looked like a hill and
          I
          > could see in almost every direction. Inlets and islands captivated
          > the coastline and beside Clew Bay a beautiful mountain stood in
          > solitude gazing out into the sea. I sat down and sent vibrations
          > soaring through the silence as I chanted a mantra until my lungs
          > resonated with intensity. Then I was silent and overwhelmed.
          >
          > I tried racing down the mountain but could only go so fast because
          of
          > the steep decline and slippery, marshy ground. When I was close to
          > Richie and Libby, I thought it would be a sight to try and run
          down. I
          > hopped and skipped and bounced and leapt into the air, but somehow
          > managed to keep my footing. I was greeted by laughter as Richie
          told
          > me how he had slipped and fallen four times. His backside was
          soaked
          > and mucky. We plodded onwards until we reached the woods. First we
          > had to walk through streams which flowed over large smooth rocks
          laid
          > down for machines. We hopped across stepping stones and splashed in
          > shallow water. A gravel road led us back to the car, but we
          strolled
          > at snails pace because it was very tough to leave such beauty
          > behind.
          >
          >
          >
          > [Great article, Colm! The ending is a little abrupt - maybe you
          > could use a good closer sentence. -Assistant Moderator]
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