Endings: Courtown

I was down in Wexford with my wife and inlaws over Christmas. Amazingly shifty weather, from a balmy stormy night to heavy blattering rain to the cold clarities of an almost full moon.

The previous night I had stayed up watching a movie on my laptop (Rise of the Planet of the Apes, which I'd seen once before) then found a note on FB to say the poet Dennis O'Driscoll had died. Horrible. He's only a few years older than me. It was only months ago I'd gotten him to sign his book at the launch on Merrion Square. Months before that I'd insisted on giving him a lift to his bus (he was weighed down by two heavy bags, presumably books). He was so appreciative of this small innocuous gesture he sent me a card to thank me. That's the kind of person he was, a lovely man, and a wonderful poet/critic (his book on Heany, Stepping Stones really is a milestone). I'll be going to the funeral in Naas on Monday, as will half of Dublin and Tipperary I expect.

Back to the blip. Boxing day: a bit of a strain, our wean threw a serious tantrum. I took a drive to clear the head, Gorey then on to Courtown. I've been to Courtown before, but never for very long. So it was today, a little excursion with myself and some ghosts. I watched three rubber-suited surfers attempting to coax the sullen waves into more than rolling dromedary humps. Then on to the pier (or would you call it that? harbour? slip?). Anyway, I love such places, coastal punctuation marks, endings.

Here's some others I thought of posting:
Warning Sign
Surfers
Moonshine