Foggy Mountain Dhu

Remember this bus ride, to and fro the windy rolling mountain tops of Pictou county, following the hilarious convergence of paths with Yensen. The weather a tonic for the upcoming flight south to la habana (more on the hopes for that jaunt tomorrow I hope) and again the Irish influence overwhelming in its soothing presence. The Dock a pub of good Guinness paraphanelia and more, and another Behan quote ("Take your hour, and have another.")

It is so very hard, to see the days like these through jaded eyes. Respectful of accomplishments that seemed so unlikely, and yet distant on the date of the occurrence. Not quite the right words there, but the meaning should be easy enough to recollect. In essence, the heart is just now fully in it. Maybe because it is so local, or maybe for other lethargic reasons, but the thought persists. Onward, toward wider horizons.

And so here you sit, pondering the endless rains of the day through the whiteness of this May sky, all around those who seem to have come to peace with their current station, while you harbour the knowledge of secretive applications within. Let it be Ireland, at this point I think, under whatever guise. Until then, let the immediate dreams be of Cuba, cigars, rum, and the malecon. Yes, baby, yes.