The kind of rain we knew is a thing of the past — deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say, browsing on spire and bogland; but today our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun, our yachts tinkling and dancing in the bay
like racehorses. We contemplate at last shining windows, a future forbidden to no one.
[5]
[Title] Kinsale: coast of Co. Cork