And I recall the birds, in flocks singing together. I could see them from the balcony in the apartment in the morning while Jenny slept. The overriding sense of joy I had in telling her when she woke up. Keeping the children away from the railing in case they leaned over too far. I told Jenny about the birds later on in the afternoon. How it appeared to me, that they moved together as though they were dancing and the noise they made was like song and how I wanted to call out to her to witness it but I knew by the time I manged to go to her and rouse her that it would be too late. So I stayed and watched the birds on my own and sometimes being on your own is just the thing. When I finished describing it to her I could hear the chorus of crickets in the background. Jenny put her arms around my back and I felt so strong and I loved the way her arms were perfectly bronzed from the sun.

It is a simple fact that I plain adored evenings in Spain. The way all the heat from the day seemed to come to a head. The balcony in the apartment was overlooking some mountains. They were much more pointed than Ireland’s glacial offerings. We sat looking at the view and deciphered different shapes in them and each formation we found was unique to us and yet we shared the magic.

It is a terrible thing to cut down beauty, to shut it off just when it is at its peak, and that is something that is impossible. But she is not beyond her prime now. That is not what I am saying. It is not what I believe.