I’m pretty convinced by now that there is no limit to the fecundity of this part of the planet. No matter how small or how sweeping the focus, all of the senses– gross to subtle– keep unfolding more treasures, happily finding residence in the heart. For me, coming home to the Heart is what Ireland is all about.

Anda and I spent a couple hours on the beach yesterday afternoon, sewing and drawing, respectively. It was gloriously sunny. Today we walked out the road just a wee bit so that we could look down through the pastures to the church and then up into the high pastures that hold the town within them like a cup brimming with vitality. Crows soared overhead and the smell of peat drifted through the air.