Category: non-fiction
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Finding Peter
[Lenny is on the left. Peter is happy to be in Pennsylvania] It was here in the Adirondack Mountains that I walked up to the wall of a ranger cabin. It was a far off December night, when my heart and body were young. I had a flashlight in my shaking hand, and read by…
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Unexpected Memories
Seventeen years ago today, my older brother Denny, passed away. It was not a sudden unexpected death but a slow decline with cancer. His family misses him terribly. My brother, Dan and I miss him. I think about him a great deal. We were a family of four boys. Denny was the second oldest, born…
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Reflections in a Sad Eye
The last bus stopped running an hour ago. The publican has rung the bell in the nearby pub, calling out “Time gentlemen, please.” The night‘s action is most definitely over out here in the ‘burbs of London. The streets may be quiet and the locals are at home…but it’s still light out! It’s only a…
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Slán
THE CLIFFS OF DOONEEN You may travel far far from your own native home Far away oer the mountains far away oer the foam But of all the fine places that I’ve ever seen, There’s none to compare with The Cliffs of Dooneen Take a view oer the water fine sights you’ll see there You’ll…
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The Silent Songs of the Burrens and the Rebel Songs of Galway
I stood at the edge of the famous Cliffs of Moher. Just a short drive from Shannon Airport, this site is one of the first stops for tourists. The last time I stood at this edge of Ireland where the Atlantic Ocean pounds silently far below us, at the base of rock faces that can…
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The Swans Of The Shannon River: Limerick On A Warm Afternoon
I dropped Mariam at our hotel and drove off to find the parking lot. I made two lefts and passed two pubs, one of which was called The Sin Bin. I took note of the name. Maybe this pub had something more than pints of Guinness. I walked back to the hotel and we decided…
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Crossing The Liffey: Our First And Last Full Day In Dublin’s Fair City
I was sitting opposite my wife in the restaurant of the Arlington Hotel where we are staying. It’s just steps away from the O’Connell Street Bridge. I was making strange, odd and contorted…some would say ugly faces in her direction. She simply stared back at me. My eyes watered and I continued to wiggle my…
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I Never Met An English Country Church I Didn’t Like
[St. John the Baptist, Buckthorn Weston, Dorset] It’s been said by many travelers that if one wants to know what’s happening in any small English village, just go to the pub and listen for an hour. I think the same is true, to a degree, of social life provided by the Church in these towns…
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Digging A Grave On A Beautiful Spring Afternoon
I stood in the soft loam, nine inches below ground level, leaned against my shovel, and thought about death and insects. This is not a difficult thing to do when you’re helping to dig a grave on a day in May when the gnats and flies are biting ankles and arms. After all, it is…