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  • The sun was going down at the landing.

    The ferry had arrived, disgorging cars and bicycles and foot-passengers.

    Next to me a gentle looking man and a long-legged woman leaned against one another, exchanging words in the honeyed, soft sounds of Ireland. They both entertained a small girl who sat facing the stream of cars. "How many blue ones was that?" "I think four" "What color will be next" "I don't know!"

    The cadence of the exchange was slow. No one was in a hurry. Smiles were exchanged. Something unwound within in me and I sank a bit lower on the log that was my chair.

    "Where do you think the ferry will go?" "I don't know" "How about Ireland ~ would't it be nice if it goes to Ireland?" "Wouldn't it be nice to ride over and see Gran?"

    "Yes, it would be nice!"

    The little girl sat, watching the cars. The gentle looking man and long-legged woman smiled and leaned more closely together.

    No one was in a hurry.

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