Strandhill, West of Ireland

Holidays
Do remember when you were very young the carefree summers and the way in which you looked forward to the smallest event or break away?
The west coast of Ireland for me is like heaven. There was a rumour that on the 7th day of making the world God would rest on the west coast of Ireland before re-commencing his work. It is an area of unrivalled natural beauty i say unrivalled but i guess there is plenty of pretenders to that honour!
If you take the rolling landscapes, the mountainous terrain the backdrop of magnificent sunsets and the cool clear waters it really is a magnificent sight. I'm sitting here in Strandhill from my hotel balcony overlooking the bay and it really captures the mood that i'm feeling. The waves are breaking against the rocks in that unique gushing sound and then as it pulls away it bounces and swooshes into the inlets.
Out in the distance a man and his dog walk carefree across the summer sun drenched sands along the rim of the water with his canine friend yapping excitedly beside him to have his stick thrown to the mercy of the sea so he can gleefully dart out and save it. The seagulls above crow at each other circling for the hint of some prey, swooping every now and then all in a sort of operatic dance with the sounds of the ocean as the theme tune.
To my right on the horizon i can see the majestic outline of Ben Bulben the topic of so much mythology and writing from William Butler Yeats that i could never do it justice. The shape of the ben bulben is so unique it reminds me of a cruise liner about to set sail, but its beauty far outways such a mechanical vessel, its natural shape and wonder are its beauty. My eyes drift again and i can see a boat just in the distance, its reflection bounces off the water and the way it just sits there lloks so peaceful and serence. For all i know the boat could be deserted it just sits there gently bopping up and down in rhythm with the ripples of water on its bow. I wonder what the persons on the boat are doing as they moved gently up and down in a sort of sensual and serene manner. From the outline of the vessel it was obvious that fishing was not its primary function but perhaps the skipper was a keen enthusiast, though i could not see any movement i'm sure the pleasure being derived in this early morning story was just as relaxing.
On my left i see a far away black dot dancing in tandem with the waves, swooning in and out and up and down as if caressing the white foam of the euphemistic sea horses. Shadowing my eyes i see about five surfers and i can only envy the way in which they seem to harness the great waves for their own enjoyment. The skill and stride of these lads is something to behold, especially to someone who does not do outdoor adventure.
Its times like these i think back to my Layne. The only girl i've ever truly loved, but like most things in life never appreciated until well behind me. She would have loved this feeling of serenity and beauty. I have a radio beside me and it plays Moonlight Serenade and if ever my feelings were captured it was now. I get a feeling of utter regret, the emotion that i think is the most stinging of all; the one where your heart sharply beats your chest in a reminder of past folly. Her bright beautiful smile would always melt my heart and her undying love was like the food from which my soul took its nourishment. Human frailty and fault means that such things never seem enough at the time but perhaps this is what was meant to be. Looking out across the ocean and i capture the boat again and i somehow it gives me peace.
I'll always come back here to Strandhill; it is my peace, my treasure and perhaps my home.

John McCarthyy is a freelance writer on West of Ireland Holidays and Strandhill