There’s something about the way the light is when we head toward summer in Ireland that reminds me of Maine.
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And it makes me a bit homesick. Not really an active, put-me-on-a-plane-this-minute homesickness, more of an achey, quiet homesickness. Maybe not even a bad homesickness, really. Maybe just the kind that makes you close your eyes and imagine the way the light hits the smooth lake in China, Maine, when the sun heads toward the horizon. When you’re putting your water skis away, swatting the mosquitoes and wringing out your bathing suit.
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Or maybe it’s the kind of homesickness that makes you remember your seven-year-old feet gingerly stepping over the rocks and sharp barnacles down to the shore to look for starfish and sea glass and smooth stones. The kind where you can remember getting up with the sun, when the ocean is glassy and calm, and the only sound you can hear is a distant lobsterman revving the boat’s engines.
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Sometimes when I close my eyes I swear I can feel Maine.
Every so often, when I catch the light in Dublin just the right way, it makes me want to close my eyes for the whole weekend, curled up in the taste and feel and light of Maine.
Instead, we’ll get on with our usual weekend activities, yummy brunch, lovely Dublin friends, a little gardening and some time spent in my studio.
But content in knowing I can close my eyes whenever I need to, and feel summer sun, ocean salt, and smooth stones.
So tell me, friends, do you close your eyes and take deep breaths of somewhere else?
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