Easter Sunday

After my unconvential Good Friday liturgy (a Bach Mass in St Nicholas' Cathedral), I managed to get out of bed for Dawn Mass at 6 by the sea in Ballyloughane, with my brother (A.), grandmother and dog. I will miss it next year when in Russia. The old priest who surprises me every year by just being there, the man who sings and doesn't need a microphone, and of course, walking down by the clifftop path, seeing the moon shine on the bay before Mass starts, and seeing it rise as it ends. There must have been 10 faces there I recognised but could not put names to - I grew up with all of them, so I should be able to.