Stone circles dancing in a farmer's field.

Stone circles dancing in a farmer's field.
feeling: dreamy
spinning: damien rice - cannonball

I love losing myself in a good book. There's something almost sacred about entering the realm where everything, from the stiffness in my back to the sound of the tv blaring in the background, fades away.

For several days now, I have been the welcome intruder in Brianna Concannon's bed and breakfast in West Ireland. Now, there's a certain predictability to the endings in all the Nora Roberts' novels I've read. In spite of that, I find myself impatiently paging through her books time and time again, savoring every word yet anxious to reach the end. Such is the magic of Nora Roberts. I do wish I had half her talent for telling tales.

Her Born In trilogy has got me all interested in Ireland. Endless rolling hills, fields sleeping under the mists, tiny villages with crooked streets... I am even intrigued by Gaelic! (That's the traditional language of the Irish I believe.) Unlike many, I've barely toyed with the idea of an European holiday and here I am, visiting the Tourism Ireland website and listening to an Irish radio station online.

Now, all this is coming from someone who doesn't give two hoots about the Irish. In fact, I have only just realized that Celtic music is actually Irish music and not what I'd initially assumed to be chanting. And I've also learnt that Damien Rice, Enya and Sinead O'Connor are Irish musicians. How many years have I spent in oblivion? I have developed a new found interest in all things Irish! I'm even thinking of indulging my urge to pick up some Irish literature!

This is the beauty of life I think. Discovering that the world is so big yet so small at the same time.