A blind date to Emerald Isle! #theBlindList
Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can imagine myself in a place where nature is at its best, breathing and singing. I get lost, just in the image of emerald trees swaying to mushy songs, of hearing old hymns from the world’s first opera singer — the birds, of rainbows burst out from the green carpet of Earth.
It is my one true escape. To get lost inside the fragrance of nature that fills every corner of Emerald Isle. To #SayYesToTheWorld.
A blind date with the world? To go wherever and whenever… It will be a dream come true for all of us. A bag full of possibilities.
Who would dare say No?
So yes. I said yes.
My imagination rolled over into itself and the sigh of pleasure that left my lips made me want to really, really hop on a plane and go on and out about to explore Ireland.
Just looking at the magical, mystical pictures of Ireland fills me with a feeling that can never be described in words. It fills me with yearning and desire.
Ireland is a place I wouldn’t mind getting lost.
Dreams make us what we will one day become.
And my wanderlust had been always satisfied by my dreams and books. I have visited so many beautiful places through written words.
For now, I let my imagination spun its magical web of world and me, together. Alone. Sitting on the side of beautiful beaches, staring at sunsets, biting into rich and scrumptious cottage cheese. Strolling along tall trees almost touching sky, talking about everything under the sky, singing folklore and dancing.
And yes, we would be going to Ireland.
A land of magic and miracles. A touch of Ireland would make anyone a believer. Its green array of painted trees proudly saluting the azure sky, the history it carries in its ruins. Ireland has always been the one place I really, really wanted to go. I’d give anything for that chance. That journey would be life-changing for me.
In all those stories of Nora Roberts, I have tasted and scented the Irish soil, the Irish lands speckled with grass and dreams and mysteries and cows and handsome men. Its Emerald beauty had captivated me, enthralled me, just in the pages and pages of written words. I have loved, sang, dreamed in those lands through these stories.
Star Wars and GoT can remind you that Ireland is a place of beauty that can take breaths away. Its magic is beyond the borders of Earth.
The landscapes of Ireland are, really, out of this world.
World, he would take me across the stretch of Irish sea in a small boat, and when I’d set my foot on the magic of Ireland, I would feel all those stories coming alive, around me, in a waltz. Buzzing in me, electrocuting me.
The chants of old ruins, the harps played by a blue eyed Irishman and the cows mooing on Irish lands… Just some of the few that would take my breath away.
The first stop would be on Giant’s Causeway, and I would take in the beauty that has come out of once a destruction. It would give me hope that anything could become beautiful if we truly tried. I would walk the 40,000 interlocking basalt columns, the result of an ancient volcanic fissure eruption, and enjoy its history under my steps. World would hold my hand and tell me how this became such a beauty. We would dream together under the beautiful sky.
He would dip a toe inside the raging water, along with me and we would both take away the frothy bubbles of memories through out this memorable expedition.
Next, we would arrive in Coral Beach just in time for a lonely sunset and World would sing his wonderful melody, a perfect Harmony of waves, wind, birds returning home to their loved ones. A song, never can be tuned into any instrument. No piano, no violin can come close to that.
My bag of romance novels that made Ireland so close to my heart would sit by me, their words enclosed in the aroma of Irish sea.
My dream would then find wings and my eyes would forget to blink.
The gold of the sun, marches past the azure sky,
The molten orange dances dreamily over the ocean,
And lavender mists over, its song soft and velvet,
The flutter of song birds singing love tales of home
To the melody of crashing waves that tries to kiss the shore one last time,
The creeks standing tall and bold, loyal and unwavering,
A sight, breathless, to behold,
Oh! Every Sunset, glory, unparalleled,
Filling the desperate hearts with
The reminders of hope,
O’ the wonders of Irish art!
For once, the world would stop and listen to my heartbeat bursting along with the bursts of colors. He would patiently wait for me to take my eyes away from the beauty he whispers upon mere mortals, he would let me explore him. The gentle kiss of his magic would leave an everlasting mark on my cheeks. It would be an enriching experience that could never be taken away.
I would run with him, chasing the setting sun. He would carry my hair as wind whips across my skirt, swirling it just so… As night descends , he’d tell me tales of stars and magic. He would draw new constellations just for me to look at. And we would sleep, under the curtain of stars, with sand sneaking inside our dresses. And he would caress my dreams with Irish people, their culture, art, music, traditions. Everything.
Morning would come, beautiful birds singing chorus atop trees, and he would take me to a field of grazing cows, and it would be so peaceful, way from the hubbub and chaos of his every days. We would drink fresh milk and eat Boxty, an Irish potato pancake, sitting in a stone bench, watching children running about in the sprawling stretch of green carpet along with white sheep, nearby a quaint cottage.
We would then go to Aran Islands, its beauty rugged and warm and I would walk among the 2000-year-old ruins of Dún Aenghus. I would hear the chants of Celtics from the age old ruins, my heart would fill with the thrill of the history. The ghosts of history would dance with me, then, to the music of Nature as he plays his harp for us.
He would then take me to Bunratty Castle, a castle fit for his princess. We would stroll through the castle rooms, and he would explain the artworks to me, the meanings only he would know.
Under the orange sky, he would make me feel like magic. He would paint my eyes gold like the glowing sky, paint my skin a touch of violet and pink and I would stand tall, feeling the glow and ecstasy in my every cell and bone.
He would close my eyes and open it to show all the beauty he has been hiding inside the fist of his palms.
He would sing stories of his people, their skin gold and white and brown and pale. He would bring alive their diversity, their culture, their language to me. It would be like a play, an opera, just for me to look, to understand, to nourish myself with the promenade of colored hands joined together in the stage of Emerald Isle.
We would then go to Kylemore Abbey and my heart would beat like a wild drum from its beauty. It would be like a dream come true, to stand among white chapels, ringing forgotten prayers from their every stone.
He would make a crown made of flowers for me, his princess for just one day and I would proudly crown myself as his queen.
He would tell me tales no one had ever heard of. He would tell me about men and women and children born there, the people who made history there, and those stories would not be in history books. It would be in the pages of every stone and stick in that land.
The emerald leaves would glitter in the sunlight and the green lake would wind through grasslands, wetting feet and hearts, carrying diamonds in its droplets and I would dip a finger, a foot and then myself inside, feeling the shiver of happiness run through me. I would feel clean and fulfilled.
The Emerald Isle plays harp, its folklore
Mixing with air, in forlorn whispers,
Of haunted tales, from the lips of old ruins,
Year old History, clinging by every alley and land
Just to the north of Irish sea, a thousand miles
Of pure fantasy,
A land worthy of fairy tales,
A land where princesses and princes would proud to call home.
Its green beauty unsullied,
It is like a dream come true,
Glory, it awakens souls with just a touch of Green fingers,
Gardens, lakes, towering cliffs, mountains, valleys, castles
Harkens, songs of enraptured hearts,
Carries scent of magic and stardust,
This place of romance and majesty, Bountiful blessings
In every hidden land,
Lovers kisses, forgotten on the lips of nature,
This land of wondrous miracle
Lights my hippie heart with
We would then walk along the dark hedges, with trees forming intricate patterns around us, under the silver light of a half hanging crescent.
The ethereal glow would fill my empty heart and mind with its Divine beauty. I would feel like a queen, and I would have room for more dreams, hopes in my heart. Whatever painful memories I used to carry, it would pop and vanish like a soap bubble. Pop. Pop.
I would be free, feather-light and flying.
The final stop would be on a tall cliff, by the seaside and I would cry my problems down the sea until my throat would become hoarse. World would stand by me, patiently waiting as he never did.
I would scream my prayers and The Heaven would hear my prayers and it would echo through the waves, creating a soulful music and the water would rage and swirl around us, absorbing my words in them, saving them.
I would be at the top of the world, and I would believe again. In hope. In myself. I would dare to dream big, bold dreams, for I’d have touched miracles by then.
That day would be ours. To love each other. To celebrate. To explore. To entangle in tales and mysteries. To touch his mystical beauty. To feel everything and to be brave.
And this blind date would be like nothing else I have ever witnessed. It would change me for the better. I would come out, the best version of myself.
One day, this blind date will be mine.
#SayYesToTheWorld with Lufthansa. Share your bucketlist and have a chance to win on the #TheBlindList.