Giant’s Causeway: Part II

On lazy days, it’s great joy to watch the rooks treat the Irish coast as a heavenly playground, leaving those without wings envious of their aerial antics. Rooks will nip at companion’s tails in the air, teasing their flockmate before darting off to the security of a tree or shrub, where they shriek at retaliation. Like all corvids, they’re brilliant creatures, testing and exploring everything, but they lack the skepticism of ravens and the simplicity of the nearby jackdaws who hide on the cliffs after they ambush a passerby. Not to mention, their faces are shockingly unique; with bare white skin at the bases of their beaks, they almost look like half-corpse ravens.

On busy days, I am stuck working at the hostel. And that has been revealing… in the regard that it’s made me realize how deeply my love/hate affair for people is, and how I have zero tolerance for a lack of self sufficiency and greed (as if Cozumel didn’t teach me that enough). But at the end of the day I am proud of myself. I spend a large portion of each shift laughing at myself for ever thinking that I was less than capable. The road to discovery is the strangest journey one could ever take; it’s full of surprise turns to keep one on his toes.


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