Quite some time ago a letter came in (sorry, very messy work-table where even the best gets buried) and it said: "You have been writing recently about the pull of the West. Some of us feel that pull cannot answer the call for one reason or another and have to seek pleasures nearer to home." (She means Dublin.) "I have a favourite walk, a beach on the east coast, not one of the better-known places - lacking the golden sand, etc., but a treasure for nature-watchers, comprising both sea and riverscape and with the mountains - well, the hills - behind. Last Friday" - that would be in February - "in brilliant sunshine, I walked the beach and had one particular wish - to see the Brent geese, usually to be found over-wintering there. At first we spotted a small group and guessed there would be more, but nothing could have prepared us for the extraordinary display as a large flock (a couple of hundred?) suddenly rose from the field where they had been almost camouflaged and flew backwards and forwards in front of us and close enough for a perfect view. As the sun caught the underside of their wings, it turned them to silver in the light. But that was not the only delight. As we continued to watch the geese coming to rest again on the marshy ground, we spotted first one otter and then a second, running along the bank and then diving into the river. A totally magical experience. And to the question: So what did you do for the weekend? I could answer, `I was lucky, so lucky'." To which one might add: Never lose a sense of wonder.
Yes, the pull of the West is not the only consideration in choosing an outing in this lovely island of ours. Some people wish that the Glens of Antrim were within easier weekend motoring distance of Dublin. Shades of Roger Casement, Armour of Ballymoney, Eoin MacNeill, Seamus Delargy, Moira O'Neill, author of Songs of the Glens of Antrim. Then, of course, the lingering traces of the old language. Not forgetting the good fishing and the always instructive closeness of Scotland. Only 13 miles away at one place - where the lads on either side could row across to meet the girls of a weekend. And the north coast there, it's nearly as good as looking out from Aran across the Atlantic - but a bit colder.
Life is so short. Ireland is a universe, in fact. PS: Wasn't our correspondent so lucky in seeing two otters? Having lived for years with daily visits from this lovely creature in an eastern county river, the departure or death of the otters was almost a family loss. Y