A few generations ago ancestors of mine went to the sea in ships on the Grand Banks of Newfoundland and hauled their cod fish over the gunnels while being bounced in waves and beaten upon by rain, wind, fog, and occasional large pieces of ice. Since then, the sea still holds a firm grip upon the descendants of those struggling Irish expatriates – myself among them. A few days by the beach leaves me most of all with a feeling of belonging and not knowing why. Someday soon I shall come back here and fly along these dunes and listen to the surf crash below me.
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