By Ciaran Burke
Across the dunes dotted with gentian blue, to where the shades of grey sky lie fallen on the mirror of retreated tide.
Beyond the washed-bronze sands scribed with black calligraphy the Atlantic waves drone.
And a foot carves the sand, a journey to the soul, waiting to be washed away.
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My Thursday was relatively uneventful -- chores in the morning, a walk to the beach in gorgeous weather in the afternoon. All the ducks have returned from wherever they spend the summer; we saw dozens of mallards, a few wood ducks, a couple of grebes, even a coot, plus the eagles were up and about. After dinner, I chatted with three of my usual Thursday night crowd.
After that, we watched a movie I'm not allowed to mention...fine, it was the first Harry Potter movie, which is still magical and I'll erase all trace of She Who Must Not Be Named when everyone else gets rid of Willy Wonka, Pink Floyd, and all the other antisemites. Here are some of the fossils we saw at Fanore Beach in the Burren -- gastropods, brachiopods, crinoids, corals:
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