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We stormed the castle ramparts in Killarney.
Well, perhaps stormed is strong wording.
Those ramparts knew we were there.
The Stackmobile supplied coffee, gloves, dirty jokes and safe transport.
Secret gardens at Muckross House twisted, turned, delighted.
Torc Waterfall was a willing backdrop for happy tourists.
The tide shifted.
A treasure bag appeared and someone began collecting bits.
I won't say who.
Away! Away! To the Gap of Dunloe, where one of us went rogue.
Up the mountain.
Chasing goats.
I won't say who.
And then this happened.
It actually did.
A fish! A fish!
The woman's gone mad.
A ferrel tourist on the loose.
I won't say who.
It actually did.
A fish! A fish!
The woman's gone mad.
A ferrel tourist on the loose.
I won't say who.
And she's not even wearing a coat.
You know who.
Away! Away! The rains are coming!
Mist descends.
The tourist is recaptured and tamed.
Irish coffee is needed.
And a wolfhound.
And a wolfhound.
Again! Again!
But first, sleep.
7 Comments
On the side of a mountain, Fish but no chips or mushy peas. F&W
Moss! That is nearly a haiku!
As least it's not a Limerick with about 4 or 5 verses about a Bishop.
What a wonderful adventure! Sitting here, wishing I was there! Those skies, what more could we want. Curious, where did that fish appear? Are there streams there?
Those skies! Those skies! Our wild child companion hiked the mountain in search of the perfect goat photo. Along the path, up the mountain, she finds a fish! There are lakes all around...we are guessing it was dropped by an eagle, who would be likely the only fisherman for miles. :)
Jen, the adventures! I am having fun musing about the magic alchemy that will take all this sensory wonderfulness, all this new, all this foreign, all this adventure, and transmute it into paintings.
Dotty! Magic alchemy once I return, for sure. Right now, I am so totally immersed and transported that I hardly know who I am. :)
