“He likes the country life.”
On the summit of Howth Head this afternoon I read the last
page of Ulysses which is in my pocket
(thanks to these new phones). It ends with the Yes of Molly taking Bloom’s hand
in marriage. When I took Una’s hand I rejoiced in gaining four sisters. I’m
down to three now and just (an hour ago) took my leave of another one – for
ever.
The sea from Ben of Howth was crystalline green, a perfect
palette with the blue-grey hills beyond and the grey-tinged-with-purple rain
clouds. The rain had crept up behind me from the city like a dark desert storm as
I drove round and up the Head but by the time I parked up it had passed over
and left a fresh sheen along the track. I speculated where Molly and Bloom may
have left the main path and found their private space among the rhododendrons –
I came up with a convincing hypothesis overlooking the golf course. The
winbushes were still tinged with a hanging-on-in-there yellow and the odd other
bloom punctuated the classic Irish countryside.
“He likes the country life” she tells her two friends, both
Dubs from the hospital where she worked. I left the hill with my heart soaring
like the seagulls down on Howth pier, which come in for landing like a Harrier,
perfect control in the strong sea breeze as they land on the concrete edge. When
I got to the end of the pier I came across the plaque commemorating the landing
of The Asgard. Strange to have received a Tweet recently from Erskine Childers
(the great-grandson). His great-grandfather’s exploits at Howth Head fused with
The Riddle of the Sands which struck
a Romantic chord with me is another facet of loving this old country I married
into.
Talking to her friends she returns to her old self – Feisty
is the word that springs to mind, Spirited, her own self. As I look at her
profile there’s something so distinctive and endearing in that lower lip, and
heart-breaking. If I hadn’t ended up with Una, Bernadette always struck me as
the next best thing, closest in looks, also beautiful red hair, though hers
darkened over time. She’s got the same dark masculine eyebrows, even more so,
which capture her strength and determination.
She’s over in Raheny now, a couple of miles down the road.
I’m in her own manor, Clontarf. A couple of the longest miles ever. She’s been
very patient with me over the years, way more than I’ve been. I liked just
being around her. She’s a force of Yes.
Clontarf, 2nd November 2012
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