Hills as green as emeralds sounds cliché but I’m at a loss for a better word to describe what’s before me as the car maneuvered the narrow roads. I wish he would slow down a bit so I could breathe in all the amazing vegetation but I’m sure his schedule isn’t as flexible as mine. Heck, a month ago mine wouldn’t have been either.
I can still see her face when I walked into her office and said I need two months off. She looked at me like I had two heads, went back to writing like I wasn’t even there. I said, “I’m serious, I need two months off.”
” No.”
“I figured it was a long shot but I had to ask.”
“Are we through, I have to get this done.?”
“No, I’m not done. I quit.”
The words I quit surprised me too but once I uttered them I felt like a weight had been lifted. I set my office keys on her desk, returned to my cubicle and then grabbed my personal stuff. I waved to a couple of my friends and left. I decided to drop them an email later because right now I wanted to get the travel agent’s office before closing.
I asked her to book me a trip to where W.B. Yeats and the artist Jack Keats found their inspiration. The incredible scenic beauty of Sligo, Leitrim and Roscommon are calling me. I read somewhere, these parts are known as Yeats’ Country. One of my favorites is the Stolen Child and it’s said that Glencar Waterfalls was the inspiration. The agent said Ireland has a lot of waterfalls, Glencar isn’t the tallest but it is one of the prettiest especially after it has rained.
Pretty is an understatement. The green smells sweeter than moss after a rain. I already feel like the green air has healed me from all the city toxicity. I will never underestimate the infinite vitality of green or Ireland again. I should have come sooner.
337 w/c
lyncrain 