Rare old times

I've been a little weary of late. Life is hectic but, like a stormy autumn night, the sky clears occasionally and a perfect moon washes the landscape clean and calm. Its silver light is perhaps the most soothing of all.

Soothing like the voice of James Joyce playing in my head as I read from "Dubliners" in the stillness of my room, wind whispering the trees outside. Hushed by the waves less than a mile beyond.

Propped awkwardly against the headboard, I see three a.m. come and go reading "Eveline". Barely six pages in length, but a world in its own right. It calms a troubled soul.

And this evening we sat together with the curtains closed and listened to your tunes. In response to your Pogues I played Ronnie Drew: "Dublin In The Rare Old Times". The last time we heard that song, Michael was singing it in the narrow streets of Santiago, no less beautifully.

That night reminded me of family parties long ago, when there were still enough of them who remembered the old songs.

I'm grateful for the genes and the memories of those times. Rare old times indeed.

God bless.