I met an old man at the bar in a pub in Ireland. As it usually happens after a few pints of Guinness we started talking.

He said how he spent his entire working life on an ocean-going ship, was in danger many times due to storms, and how he couldn't wait to retire and firmly set foot on land, finally spending time with his family, especially grandchildren.

And that now as an old man, he is happiest on summer evenings, when the full moon lights up everything, he lies out on the grassy part of the beach and looks at the sea through the grass. I asked him why through the grass? He said - "I can't live without the sea, and looking at it through the grass is solid proof that I'm really on land after so many years, and that I'm not dreaming after all."

This work is a dedication to that old man. I recently found out from my Irish friends that he died few months ago at age of 87. His ashes were scattered on the grassy part of the beach. Now he is forever close to his sea, but still firmly on land, which he has been striving for for years.

Sláinte mr. Doyle.

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Bajiru, November 2022.