there were times as a child it seemed like i was floating on air
when that small grey town was lit by a light that made every thing a soft golden yellow
the hashness that was ,was replaced as if in a dream so i could not remember anything that had gone before
the soft light and air would carry and enfold me in its subtle delicacies
drifting in and out with wonder in this most natural of places i felt no sense of alienation ,
i was at one with the sky the sun and the earth
the smell of freshly cut grass form hay filling my nostrils and every pore of my body
i did not walk or run but floated tumbled and turned with every gust of wind ,
my mood more serene with the ever changing evening light,
voices laughter whispers were like the rustling of the leaves in the trees and the crinkling water in the stream
for a while it would seem there would never be anything else,though as the long evening turned to night and as summer turned to autumn and then to winter so to would my life turn to shadows,
and my dreams be taken in the terror of those cold and dark irish evenings