Many years ago when I was a recently qualified architect I signed up for ‘The ‘I’ in Writing’, an evening course offered by Trinity College Dublin and open to anyone who wished to attend.  The reading list ranged across prose, poetry, short stories and novels.  The first piece of writing up for discussion was a classic novel I had always disliked so I went along reluctantly after a long day at work.  Within minutes I was glued to my seat in total awe as Eavan Boland, having made us all feel welcome, verbally dismantled the book.  It was like witnessing a tsunami blowing away stuffy air and cobwebs, replacing them with fresh ideas, and all done with clarity and style. 
I loved that course, attended by such a wide range of people, conducted by a different lecturer each week and held in one of the theatres of the Arts Block.  I never had the courage to voice an opinion, but I never missed a single moment after that first evening.

In these strange times of Covid induced quietness it seems nature is ever more present.   It is a beautiful evening, perfect to see Venus at her brightest tonight and the new crescent moon. 

Eavan Boland passed away today.  May she rest in peace.

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