The Order The Powerful Atlantic Winds Swept Over The

The Order The powerful Atlantic winds swept over the towering Cliffs of Moher and traveled inland through the County Clare. They took a bow before Bunratty Castle, then raged through the land of potato patches and barley fields. They raced over the limestone and flew over the sandhills. Only through the bog land was their temper reigned. On the edge of the bogs, the zephyrs found their final resting place, in the market town of Corofin.

Chapter One 1874 A.D.

A bit of brisk, damp air slipped around Tommy’s neck. He shivered, but the morning mist continued to nip at his exposed skin. He turned his head to see what was rustling at his side. It was just a gust of wind that had blown off the last leaves from an old tree. One landed at his feet, just over his shoe. It was gray and defeated. Tommy kicked it off his foot and ground it into the soggy pitch. Tommy’s mother placed her hand on the back of his neck. Her gentle touch warmed him. He drew a child’s deep breath and looked up to the service in front of him. A tired old man was chanting words Tommy didn't want to understand. Beyond the old man, two crows were fighting with a hawk. It was a welcome distraction, but soon the birds took their argument below the treetops and out of view. His mother’s hand quivered on his neck then slipped away to muffle her sobs. The two of them watched as a plain wooden box descended into the ground. They stayed until the groundskeepers were finished, and remained after the groundskeepers left.

It wasn’t the first time in Tom’s eight years that he had felt such fear, he told me, but it was the first time he had felt his mother’s fear. After dusk had fallen, Tom and his mother started their walk down the soggy hill toward the barn they called home. When they reached the gravel road, Tom turned

and took one last look - not to his father’s grave, but to the old tree with no leaves. He paused and stared. And, I stared back.