I stood on the lawn and looked out across the creek to where, downstream, the roaring waterfalls rested. It all felt like a dream; the lush grass tickling my toes, the cool water, and the thundering falls. Everything here was just simply old order and beauty, luxury, peace and sensual indulgence.
I suddenly trembled, realizing where I was, the Sheen Falls Lodge, nestled deep in the gorgeous Kerry County, Ireland. The road coming to the lodge, the Ring of Kerry, required bold self-confidence, for there were many stretches where the road narrowed and curved without railings. The possibility of driving off the edge and plunging downward off shear cliffs into the endless valleys gave me a serene feeling of belonging here.
The waterfall sang a culling song as I approached it, tenderly taking care with each step not to tread on anything that may dirty my feet. The falls sat about twenty meters high with the horseshoe cliff surrounding and sloping downward on both sides to meet again in harmony at a small bridge. The bridge beckoned me to cross, and slowly I did. It was solid and well built probably sturdy enough to hold several thousand pounds. The white stained wood corresponded with the innocence of the land. Pristine, pure, and unaffected by mankind’s destruction, this land was fresh from God’s mighty hand.
Across the bridge there was a massive wood with a rough path that snaked inside. The leaves crunched beneath my feet for it was fall, the “season” for tourists. I could understand, these trees held a sort of priceless luxury, something money could never buy. The peace and tranquility could be fully established; as the trees jumped aside and standing there in front of me were the surrounding mountains. The sun had just set, and rays of purple and gold were radiating over the tops and around the sides of the mountains. The sight was majestic as I basked in the purple and gold light assessing my momentary royal status.
The more I looked at the mountains the more I wanted to lie down for eternity. The order of the ridges rising to the others descent much like life itself. For the mean time I would be here gazing at this sight and then I would return to dreary old Milwaukee. But why should I label it as old? This landscape, this portrait of a masterful artist, is and will forever be older than my hometown. I could never leave, I would never return, this is the place I wish to spend my eternity. In the valley beneath the mountains, where beauty meets peace and luxury and they battle over who shall reign supreme, when finally, suddenly, they make peace, saying all will reign as one mighty force to captivated me. My mind was ensnared and my body was vexed by what would become my life’s epiphany.
I was sweating and my hands felt heavy as my senses indulged in an aura of holy light, purged, free of any evil. The light vanished and I closed my eyes. I didn’t want this feeling to stop but something told me it wouldn’t. The mountains were cold with the blue and black of the moonlight. They stared back as I stared and in one we wished we could share this moment forever. Where the sunset light spilled over the peaks in abundance and I stood silent. For they say this is the land where everything is simply old order and beauty, luxury, peace and sensual indulgence.
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