The World is a Beautiful Place

Across the Pond
by Connor Teahan
The grassy green meadows flow for miles until they reach the horizon and then fall off earth’s surface. The cattle
graze on the silage, just served to them from the back of a big red rusty tractor. The sound of the sheep is heard all around
as new lambs slowly make their way into the world.
My vision is filled with flashes of black and white as the dogs dart around the yard, chasing their tails and each other.
The soft aroma of freshly peeled potatoes, cabbages soaking in a stainless steel pot, and the slab of corned beef on the
countertop waiting to be cut, slowly makes its way around the house, inadvertently announcing that it’s dinner time. The
brogues fill the air as my family crowds around the table, talking about Paddy down the road and Paddy up the road and
just about every other Paddy in town.
It is my second favorite place, my second sanctuary, and a place where I know I will always be welcome. Where my
childhood memories will never be buried and will never be forgotten, and where there will always be someone who is one
of my own.
Emiko Chisholm
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