In the great green Isle
There was a girl
With a sobered smile
As she typed about her travels
That stretched for miles.
The past three months
flashed by in her head
as she finished her last sentence,
on the screen it read:
Goodnight Liffey and quays
-and your sparkle in the sunlight, how you come alive at night. To the deep pink of the sunset, the silhouetted skyline, and the local indie gigs playing in the clubs along the river. The startling number of seagulls and frightening middle schoolers. The bridges that arch over, each with a different personality. The nights where I’m walking along the quay toward the Westmoreland bus stop after meeting friends and dancing.
Goodnight Phoenix Park
-and the mist that hangs over the trees. To the Wellington monument that peeps over the houses through the train window. The deer that bask in the sun among the winding tree trunks. To the cafe with insanely good lasagne. The pearly white Pope’s Cross that overlooks the park. The green grass that goes on forever and ever.
-and the tables covered in names, dates, drawings. To the red candles that seem to be the only things lighting the room. The blaring music that somehow plays the right kind of rock music every time. The pint glasses without labels and the cushiony seats in the basement. The pub bursting with people every weekend but still belongs to me.
Goodnight Temple Bar
-and the trad music that changes as you pass each pub. The cobbled streets that lead up to the river. The iconic red and gold storefront, still bedazzled in Christmas ornaments. The streets that never seem to sleep. The tourists that ebb and flow, and into the line of vintage clothing stores. To Rory’s Fishing Tackle and its novelty fishing T-shirts. To the outdoor string lights that become the night sky.
Goodnight Stephen’s Green
-and the swans that strut by the pond nipping like grass, and the children that chase the pigeons. The soft light that peeps through the branches and the buskers that sing American songs at the the gate. To the flowers that line the paths and the fountain full of pennies. To Grafton street and the lounging brunchers underneath their canopies.
Goodnight Gay Spar
-and the rainbow crosswalks, and the Victorian buildings that stand with grandeur. The George that lights up in different colors, and queues that stretch for miles on end. The restaurants with a myriad of cuisines and the Exchange Hall that illuminates at night.
Goodnight O’Connell Street
-and the glorious eyesore smack in the middle of it, shooting into the sky. The lawless buses that zoom past and could collide with the Luas any moment. To the town criers, the bar hoppers, the street hawkers. To the Penney’s and the Supermac’s. The GPO and the O’Connell Statue, standing proud and dotted with bullet holes. To the street with a history and a hundred more hidden stories.
Goodnight Dublin, after dark.
Nat Mak, Staff Writer
Nat Mak is a junior from Hong Kong studying Media Science at the College of Communication. They are currently based in Dublin and writing for The COMmunicator as a Terrier Abroad Blogger. Passionate in media and visual art, they have gained experience in a wide array of channels, such as college radio, print and digital publication, and advertising. Outside of BU, they enjoy drawing, watching movies, knitting, and making music.
Audrey Ritchie, Senior Editor
Audrey Ritchie is a second-semester graduate student earning her Master of Science in public relations at BU. Ritchie graduated from The University of Texas at Austin with a B.S. in public relations and a minor in business in 2021. A life-long writer, she is excited to join the COMmunicator this semester. In her free time, she loves reading, exploring Boston, and playing with her dog, Bear.