A few days ago I decided to get up early to hitch a ride into Wexford town with our good friends from Ballyhaunis. I was headed to the local office supply store to buy two comfy office chairs for the Nomad Newlyweds. While it sounds nice in theory to sit on a couch all day and work (living the dream), our backs and necks don’t particularly care for it.
Our Irish friends were lucky enough to have won the rugby ticket lotto to see Ireland-France play in the 2015 World Cup Rugby, and were headed to the Rosslare ferry terminal in order to catch a morning boat over to Wales.
It was still dark when I left, and the temperature was surprisingly reasonable. I expected bone chilling cold on a mid-October morning in Ireland, but was glad I didn’t need to dust off my winter gloves.
Fall in Ireland is wonderful with leaves just as brilliant in red, orange and yellow hues as back home; dew drops cling to early morning cobwebs strung along the fence; and birds announcing the arrival of each new morning.
Wexford Fall Morning
I had to kill an hour and a half in the early morning, wondering the streets of Wexford before the Argos store opened. I find that exploring a new place is best done alone (I walk at a brisk pace), and without a visual aid. I only had a vague idea of Wexford’s layout from looking a few times prior at Google maps.
As the sun slowly awoke over the seaside town’s waterfront, I relished in strolling the wooden boardwalk alone. I walked a zigzag pattern in order to avoid the overhead seagull threat, which outnumbered me 10 to 1. I felt a bit like a drunken sailor, stumbling off to bed after a long night drinking.
An Unusual Painting
I wasn’t sure what I would find in Wexford town, but I had a sense that I would stumble upon something epic. My instinctive sense of direction pulled me down dark streets and along stone alleyways.
I almost walked right by it. Abruptly stopping, it took a few seconds before my eyes finally adjusted to fixate on the heavenly image affixed to a stone wall in a back alley. Walking dark alleys in dawn light – I live so dangerous.
I whipped out my camera, nearly dropping it to the ground in my exuberance. And then I thought to myself, “What would Heather do?”
I pictured her dropping to her knees in adoration at the idol in front of her. Part of her life now made whole by such a startling, wondrous discovery.
For those that don’t know, my super fan (Heather) is a zealous supporter of crows. Weird, huh? She once sent me a cryptic note that outlined the fact that harm may come to me if I didn’t paint a picture of a one-legged crow in the desert, which she could hang above her fireplace. The unfinished canvas still sits in my in-law’s garage.
understand accept her fascination – crows are quite intelligent birds after all. I just hope the photo I took will subdue her for the next couple of years. I also suspect that she equally adores rooks, which I believe is what is portrayed above. A giant rook apparently sitting on a human’s lap, whose hand extends across the arm of a high-back chair. Who knows, maybe Heather was actually the hand model for this painting and is quite aware of its existence. If that is the case, my apologies. I will continue to search for new and amazing crow/rook images.
I was so overwhelmed by the entire experience that I forgot to take note of where I found the painting, and probably couldn’t tell you the directions to its secret location. Sorry crow fans, you will have to make your own pilgrimage to Wexford some day to wonder the empty, early morning streets.