Serendipity

This morning we were given free time to do our own thing. After eating brunch with some group members, we decided to wander around Dublin some more. I know what you're thinking, How is there much more to see if you are always wandering the city when you are given free time? Let me tell you, there are so many streets and nooks and crannies of Dublin that I'm sure we have yet to see. Part of the fun is wandering around and seeing where you end up, as well as what treasures lie before you. It is quite the freeing experience. One of my favorite things about this trip has been never knowing exactly where I'm going nor having every second of every day planned out. I'm living every day as though it is a new adventure, and I am cherishing this change of pace.

On today's adventure, we found ourselves in St. Stephen's Green Park. Though we were certainly not planning on going to the park, we just so happened to stumble upon it after looking at some street shops in the area. As soon as we entered the park, I was absolutely stunned. The park is grand, as they'd say here in Ireland. I tend to find comfort and harmony in nature. Mesmerized by its grandeur, I was washed over with serenity. I felt as if I was in one of Monet's paintings, and if I dabbled in the art of painting, I would most definitely come to paint at this park. After being there, I wish I did know how to paint. The picturesque scenery would make for spectacular landscapes. Perhaps I'll pick up the hobby.

Since we were on a bit of a time crunch, my roommates and I had to hurriedly walk through the park. However, I am interested in coming back on another free day to spend more time admiring the natural beauty of this park. In fact, I'd love to be able to sit down and write some poetry, as I haven't devoted any time to that this whole trip. That's disappointing, I know. Having encountered the W.B. Yeats exhibit and now the awe-inspiring park by chance, the urge to write has struck me. Sitting alone in a serene place with my thoughts and a pen in my hand may provide me all I need to create decent poetry, so long as the flocks of pigeons and seagulls don't attack or poop on me. I'll have to get back to you on that one.