In preparation for a day when everyone is just a little bit Irish I thought it would be fitting to visit the family's postcard archives and share pieces of Irish culture with readers.
Walking all the day, near tall towers where falcons build their nestsSilver winged they fly, they know the call of freedom in their breastsSoar Black Head against the sky, between the rocks that run down to the seaLiving on your western shore, saw summer sunsets, asked for more
I stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland
Talking all the day with true friends, who try to make you stayTelling jokes and news, singing songs to pass the night awayWatched the Galway salmon run like silver dancing darting in the sunLiving on your western shore saw summer sunsets, asked for moreI stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland
Drinking all the day in old pubs, where fiddlers love to playSomeone touched the bow, he played a reel, it seemed so fine and gayStood on Dingle beach and cast - in wild foam we found Atlantic BassLiving on your western shore, saw summer sunsets asked for moreI stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland
Dreaming in the night, I saw a land where no man had to fightWaking in your dawn, I saw you crying in the morning lightLying where the Falcons fly, they twist and turn all in you e'er blue skyLiving on your western shore, saw summer sunsets asked for moreI stood by your Atlantic sea, and I sang a song for Ireland
Photos and Illustrations:
Postcards from the author's family archives