I don't wear her everyday. She comes out when I'm feeling adventurous and comfy cozy at the same time. She's specifically that, comfortable in adventure and always cozy. My little red dress and I, we fit together quite nicely.
She is cotton, with pockets, and she loves a baggy sweater. She has slept in the woods only to climb mountains, and afterwards climb her way out of a hamper when perhaps she did need a bath. She has swam in lakes, seas and rivers and has clung to me closely through it all. My little red dress and I, we get along.
So it was no surprise she was the only thing I deemed proper that day at the little hostel. She smelled of luggage and was covered in glass from a broken picture frame. She shook herself out in my hands, the pieces of sparkle and dust falling to the ground around my feet. I'll sweep that up later....I assure myself. When I slipped her on over my head and felt her familiar hug and cling I felt like home. I look outside and it is just drizzling a bit so I throw on a light jacket over her. She is used to being wet but perhaps I am not and so I choose to cover us for the beginning.
The beginning would be a walk. I didn't know where, I had no map, I had never been here before. But I began walking to the water, and then around it. She guided me, really, showing me to the Spanish Arch and over bridges and past Indian Food restaurants and smiling faces and people on cell phones and people buying cell phones and men in yellow shirts playing the flute and a woman standing on a pillar calling out to save the poor and a group of school children in uniform run by and there's a bus making a turn I can't believe is real and the road is cobblestone and my shoe gets stuck and there's a man on a bike with a fishing pole and I follow his lead through the grassy fields and out to a bridge that seems to go to nowhere...
"Pedestrians only beyond this point, weather permitting."
It has gotten warm and I remove my jacket and begin walking out onto this walkway that on one side is calm and clear and the other is being pounded by waves that lap at her, my little red dress, and she seems to quiver with anticipation. I can not forget how much she loves water. She is made for this little city. She begins walking closer to the side where the waves have watered the stones and the spray touches my cheek and it is cold and delightful.
When we get to the end we see that it is just some sort of closed off building, nothing out here to see but the expanse of nothing. If we could see forever we would be looking directly toward America, or perhaps if we could see forever we'd have already seen that and we would be looking at something yet undefined. My dress and I watch the sun turn to clouds and before we notice it has started pouring. The wind is painful against my face and we cover ourselves in the jacket. We turn to walk back, this time unable to avoid any of the watery waves pounding the rocks even if we had wanted to. We didn't want to, though. This was exciting.
Back on shore and we walk along the waters edge still further. I had heard rumor of a diving board and I just wanted to look out into the ocean, to see a side of water I had not seen before. My dress urged me forward, with every step she took I felt the pull to keep going. My dress and I seem unable to quit once we begin.
Suddenly the weather has cleared again, the wind has stopped, the rain turned to sparkly shimmers of drizzle in a suddenly sunfilled day.Again I remove the jacket, letting the sun warm her poor, soaked body and hoping to feel that warmth through her hug. A slight chill passes up my spine, and for a moment I forget how new this all is and feel like I am back in a rainstorm in Seattle, wondering how much longer my toes will remain damp before I can change my socks. As I squeeze the water out of my hair she grabs onto my thighs, reminding me this is what you came for. We keep walking.
In the distance the laughter of children can be heard over the gentle slaps of water on the shore and we look ahead to see the majestic diving board. It is higher than I thought, with shorter boards below. But it is the height we crave and the view we came to see. So we amble our way up to the top, looking out at the expanse. Ireland is so green and vibrant against the grey blue waters of her shores. My dress leans just a bit further over the edge...I wonder how deep it is down there...A child runs passed us and soars through the air, shrieking and laughing until the inevitable splash...It can't be much colder than home...she is whispering to my soul to jump, to fly, to swim.....
I set my coat on the railing and lean just a bit further, tempting her with my teasing thoughts. And then we decide it has to happen. The sun has warmed our backs and why get all the way here if not to jump, right? So, without a pause I run to the edge and leap into the air, realizing perhaps I should have removed my boots but that doesn't matter as I hold my knees tight to my chest she, my dress, flies up over my head and we land in the water, completely immersed in the cold grip of the sea and shore.
When we get out, an older couple is laughing at me. I smile back, pleased. A child tosses me my jacket from up top the diving board and I pull it on.
Though cold, and wet, the walk back to the hostel, where I would hang her and myself out to dry, was comfortable and cozy. I see a home for us here, my dress and I.
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