Postcard World

In the film class we have been watching movies about the Irish War of Independence. It has been interesting to learn about the struggle that the Irish and British have had for such a long time. For a while, however, I could not figure out what was so important about Ireland that made it such a “must have” for Great Britain.

It is a quaint little island. The people are nice; the beer tastes good. Ireland has some nice things going for it. On the other hand, the land is very rocky and terrible if you want to grow crops other than potatoes. Setting aside the possibility that Britain might want Ireland only to use as a potato garden, I contemplated what the big deal about Ireland was that Great Britain had spent the better part of seven hundred years trying to beat Ireland into submission and under its control.

I considered these facts for most of this past week. Then I went to Bantry this weekend. Bantry is a small coastal village on the Bantry Bay in West Cork. Bantry also happens to be part of Ireland, or what I now refer to as “Postcard World.” I call Ireland this because every piece of scenery is picturesque. Every hill, every lake, every sheep belongs on a postcard. It is impossible to take a bad picture of the Irish landscape.

The beauty of Bantry (and Ireland as a whole) is amazing and truly jaw-dropping. It is my belief that this is the reason why the British were so hell-bent on controlling Ireland. When you see the Irish countryside and the coastlines, there is nothing that is going to stop you from wanting to come in and have this land all to yourself. How could the British not want their own postcard mine in their backyard? Even to this day the United Kingdom holds on to Northern Ireland. It’s almost as if the British are saying, “All right, you Irish. You can have your fair share of the place, but we are not going to let you have a monopoly on the postcard business.”

I say this lightheartedly, but the scenery that I saw over the weekend really amazes me. Bantry Bay is simply breathtaking with its blue water and drastic changes in tide. I had a hard time believing how much green was on the surrounding hills. I had no idea that so many different shades of green existed on the Earth.

I had always thought that America was such a beautiful country, and still do, but as I stood on the coast that Saturday and watched the water ebb and flow and the sheep graze across the green hills I became to doubt whether or not our country was the most beautiful. I can appreciate why the Irish would fight for their country, despite how overpowered they were by the British. They were willing to give up everything to keep it, even giving up their lives so that their children could have it, this one island in the North Atlantic that is more beautiful than any other part of the Earth.