Fellow traveller Father Steve arrived carrying a book of poems by Seamus Heaney, the Irish Nobel Laureate who died last week . . .
Steve was looking forward to hearing Dubliner Des Whelan, whom he’d first met (and shared a Guinness or two with in Hobart), recite a verse or two in his typical Irish lilt.
Actually, it was Steve who knew better where to zero in on a couple of emotive verses that Seamus, as an aging man, had written in an attempt to re-experience some childhood perceptions of daily life . . . as simple as helping his mother peeling potatoes . . . . and folding the sheets off the clothesline.
I wonder what this current generation thinks of our deriving such pleasure in re-living these memories of our own youth?
Click here to read marvellous NY Times Article When it opens. (Click ‘Skip the Ad’ to get to the article.) – Mr. Heaney, a widely celebrated Irish poet who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1995, is recognized as one of the major poets of the 20th century.