Category: Real Personal History
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the four green fields blog14: the goddesses of the moon
[Unenhanced photo of the moon. Sailing west, looking south. The North Atlantic Ocean. Photo is mine.] Whenever people look at clouds they do not see their real shape, which is no shape at all, or every shape, because they are constantly changing. They see whatever it is that their heart yearns for. ~~Eduardo Agualusa, A…
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the four green fields blog7: Confessions of a flawed traveler
[Redwood Castle, Lorrha, Co Tipperary, Ireland. Photo is mine.] So, are ye staying the night? ~~Coleesa Egan My last blog post, No. 6 in my series. Oh, my last post from nearly a week ago. What can an honest man say about my determination to spend the night in my ancestral castle, reputed to be…
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the four green fields blog5: a poet’s grave
[A roadside flower, ready to spread it’s seed. Co Sligo, Ireland. Photo is mine.] When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; ~~from When You are…
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The four green fields blog4: An old cemetery & my Irish family
[A very creaky gate leading into an old cemetery. Photo is mine.] Suaimhneas Siorai Air ~~Old Irish Epitaph “Eternal Rest be Upon Him/Her” The green and rusted rotating gate made a noise that seemed more like a stifled scream of metal against metal. It pierced my ears. The harshness of the sound, under other circumstances,…
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the four green fields blog3:the burren
[Where we were. Photo is mine.] Burren (‘b^ren0 n. A limestone area on the North Clare coast in the Irish Republic, famous for its wildflowers, caves, and dolmens. The Burren is a lot of things. It’s a place in Ireland, a route to tour, and a UNESCO Heritage Site. To me, it’s something else altogether.…
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My 700th Blog: Another chapter in a Journey
[The usual metaphor for a journey. Photo is mine.] The life in which nothing happens goes the fastest, because it has no landmarks. ~~Katherine Tynan The last time I reached a milestone, my 600th post, was on Feb. 3, 2023 (at 9:17 PM). Looking back, I have been writing about 100 every several years…it’s been…
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the woman who birthed me
[My mother, Mary Hotchko Egan. She is striking a very ’50s pose in our backyard in Owego, NY. Photo is mine.] “Don’t toss that saucer in the air. You’ll drop it.” ~~My mother to me, sometime in the late ’60s. Of course I wouldn’t listen. I tossed it up and caught it, until I missed.…
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i went down to the demonstration…
to get my fair share of abuse. ~~Mick Jagger [At the New York Public Library Main Branch. 42nd St. & 5th Ave. Photo is mine.] I told a few people that we were going to the Hands Off demonstration at Bryant Park. Some commented: “Be careful.” “Don’t take a backpack. Not the thing at a…
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Peter, Lenny & pat’s big adventure
[The route. The dark blue line. Disregard the time notation. Source: Google Maps.] “I remember it was up hill all the way.” ~~ Lenny Schmidt “There is a cow outside of our tent.” ~~ Patrick Egan Oh, the exuberance of youth! The innocence of the young! The pure and wild wind in our hair and…
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To keep you from being homesick
[The found photograph. By unknown photographer, probably my father.] The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect in some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) which we do not suspect, and as for that object, it depends upon chance whether we come upon it…
patrickjegan 