The mountains seduced me with their green grandeur, coaxing me away from the tightly scheduled routine of the morning. I was no longer standing in Drumcliffe Churchyard--I was standing in a dream, a painting, a dream about a painting. I was intoxicated by a sight most people can only fantasize about, a sight very few get the opportunity to behold. This view lured me away from the tombstone of W.B. Yeats, but I felt no remorse as I dismissed the inanimate slab of granite. I instead felt Yeats smiling down upon me, perhaps even leading me to the picturesque landscape himself. I felt him grin with wise satisfaction as the scenery that once inspired him opened its arms and enveloped me.
I never awoke from the dream that was my weekend in Sligo. As the weekend progressed my reverie only became more and more elaborate, as if a tapestry was being woven in my mind as intricately delicate as Yeats' "The Lake Isle of Innisfree."
"And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.
Linnet's wings carried me to the shore of Lough Gill, which forms the backdrop of Parke's Castle. I spotted a small boat dubbed "Rose of Innisfree"sitting cozily in its dock. The reflective water rippled harmoniously beyond the boat with a rhythm so pensive and steady, it was as if the water itself was reciting the poem.
Near the end of my idyllic weekend I embarked on a journey as metaphorically meaningful as it was physically taxing. It took me over an hour to climb the mountain Knocknarea. My feet fought desperately for land to cling to amongst countless loose rocks, damp mud, and slippery inclines. Though the cows in the pastures adjacent to me cheered me on, there was a distinct moment in which I thought to myself, "It's time to turn back."In this, my moment of vulnerability, I got on my hands and knees determined to crawl my way to the top. I looked instead to James Joyce for a little pep talk as I remembered a quote from his short story, "An Encounter."
"But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad."
My goodness Erin this is great! You did a wonderful job incorporating several of our destinations into this one post. You also choose great quotes and then you even tied it all back to Dubliners- An Encounter. I would have loved you to have expanded a bit more on Parke's Castle and on the incredibly picturesque view from the top of the mountain (because you did make it to the top!). I really like the poetic word choice too- I think it was super appropriate for our W.B Yeats learning experience while on the trip. Lovely job :)
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the image of you struggling up the mountain in such an idyllic landscape. Too much idealism can sometimes leave me as a reader skeptical; it's the tension (whether its a conflict between characters, something incongruous in the landscape, or just the tension of having to struggle through it) that draws me as a reader into a piece and makes the beautiful bits all the better. That struggle you have in near the end of your piece adds weight to Joyce's quote and makes for a good conclusion.
ReplyDeleteThe piece is a bit too Pre-Raphaelite for my taste, but certainly Yeats had a touch of that in his early poetry. Do a bit more with the struggle to climb Maeve's Cairn.
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