Some of you know I'm in Ireland for several weeks to work on my book and reconnect -- with friends, the land, my ancestors, my story.
After a 29 hour trip from Charlotte, NC (USA) to Dublin, through Cork, through Castletownbere, to Eyeries on the Beara Peninsula in far West Cork, I arrived at Anam Cara Writer's and Artist's Retreat. This is a do-it-yourself retreat, with all the serenity you need to do it yourself. I'm one of three women here this week; silence is kept except for meal time.
Today I hiked to an island, waterfalls, a beehive hut, and through forests and fields.
I came across some dandelions in their 'puffball' stage -- I have a warm history with dandelions, remembering as a child blowing off their white puffs and making a wish. I especially remember visiting my Nana's grave which seemed to always be surrounded by dandelions, and, with my sister Kelli, picking the flowers and blowing them into the breeze.
So I'm sharing with you a picture of today's dandelion and a poem I wrote several years ago to another Irish field of dandelions:
©Christine Salkin Davis