Solitude. That’s what I feel when I think of Tara, that solitary hill in the middle of flatlands, that lush green countryside that seemed unreal even while we stood on its surface. And while the multitudes of sheep moved past in herds, making low sounds deep in their throats, we stood there and soaked it all in. This statue stood there in the middle of it all, testament to man’s desire to place his stamp on nature, a symbol for all time that “I was here.”
And it added to the solitude, this sense that we were the only two human beings on earth, touched on one side by the concrete and on the other by the divine, content in Tara’s grace.