Sunday 21 August 2011

Where My Heart Lies.

Lately, as though standing still amidst a cascade, a tumult of warm rushing days, like bright ribbons that flutter and flick around us bringing outings and jaunts of the loveliest kinds, rekindling of friendships, forging new ones, I find my moments to pause, to take a breather, and literally breathe, watching the beautiful, colourful maelstrom of days that tumble on around us.





In amongst our days we have found ourselves weaving our way back and forth, up and down the coast, up and down this dear stretch of earth we are blessed to live in, south to wondrous beaches that are out of this world, north for an hour to our favourite city, and there, in between, nestled in a harbour, our home town.


And although we have not lived there for 15 years, this place has our hearts still, and I forget just how deeply rooted it is, and spending time there, more than fleeting visits to grandparents, has the effect of something like a burr that clings to us, burrows into our skin, finds our blood and floods our senses, and even as I write this I feel it, a flutter in my stomach. A memory.

Photo by My Only Girl.

So we climb our hill and lie in the sun, gaze out over the bay, and it is like an imprint somewhere deep inside me that possess me from the inside out, stirs up an unfathomable longing that cannot be shaken for days.


And yet....


....then we return home, to this little house just a few miles down the coast, where the sea booms down the chimneys, and jackdaws roost, the wind moans through the walls and whispers of ships and whales, where the reeds sweep and toss, cluster round us like old friends, murmuring words in our ears like 'comfort' and 'snug'.


And as the evening gathers, and the light slides along these walls of ours, I sink into the quiet that creeps out from the shadows as the children dash into the garden for the last bit of sunshine, I sit and listen to their voices, the laughter, that floats in the open window like little boats on the sounds of the sea, and a breeze stirs the curtain.


And as night finally settles in, I contemplate how it is possible to love two places equally, and that if I did leave here and go back, I would be no better off, for I would still love two places equally and it would simply be a mirror of now.

Photo by Líosa.

So we will quietly carry on loving two places, and watch the sun set over the mountains, the same mountains of home, and yes, actually, in the greater map of the world, they are, after all, one and the same.

14 comments:

Sharon Longworth said...

A lovely, lovely tribute to the places you have lived and live, and love. Smashing.

Martin said...

Such a beautiful post and, so timely, Ciara. This weekend I had to drive to my home village and take a peep at the little house where I was born. It's important for us to reconnect from time to time.

Mise said...

I can see why you are torn. Home is where the rice krispie ship is, but you have to go away to come back, and what a good place to go you have. That last photo of your lit house is beautiful.

Mimi said...

There is something so incredibly beautiful about that last photo, a cosy, welcoming home. I can almost smell the tea brewing!
So I can see how you like to come back there, but I know what you mean too about Dun Laoghaire, it has magic in many ways.
And your photo of ? Killiney is so beautiful I had a sharp intake of breath when I scrolled to it.
I suppose we're always torn between places we love, but better that than running from places we hate.

Unknown said...

Beautiful! Thank you for the reminder that it is possible to love two places at the same time, that we don't have to choose one over the other.

Sara said...

Gorgeous post Ciara. Beautiful homes that touch our very souls... it is very possible to love more than one. You write of this perfectly. Much love.

denise said...

I know what that is. And you live in the midst of such beauty - oh, my heart!

Gray said...

It is funny how trips 'back' home can evoke such strong feelings and memories. I find myself trying hard not to go back to old roosts, the feelings can just be too strong. I can learn from you... just relax and enjoy it wash over you.

I enjoy your insights and posts very much- and your photos. What camera do you use?

ramona said...

Such a wonderful contemplative post. The accompanying photos always magically appropriate! Thank you Ciara for your beautiful story:)

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

Your writing is wonderful!
I can feel 'joy' within your words...this is truly a lovely lovely piece of writing.
How I envy you these beautiful places and times.

Hugs Jane

yew tree nights said...

A truly beautiful post, Ciara. This longing, strange homesickness really resonates with me.
It's so terrible but so wonderful to fall in love with different places, when we can only ever be in one at a time.

Oh, and that boat is spectacular!

self hypnosis scripts said...

Great places and lovely photographs! You pretty sure had a gorgeous day!

Kerry O'Gorman said...

A part of my heart lies in beautiful Ireland as well. You are truly blessed to have a home there.

Acornmoon said...

Home is where the heart is after all. The bigger the heart the more places it can accommodate.

I wonder how many people hold a genetic memory of Dun Laoghaire? So many heart strings would have tugged at that place of departure and return.