Here is an essay written by one of our Dear Guests:
The Holiday Home
By Colman O’Neill 08/2007
Arriving from Ireland, we stopped off in San Diego, before coming up to Pebble Beach.
The temperatures dampened by sea mists here are more within our reach.
We could not believe our luck completing our journey to Congress Road by darkness!
What treasure box of pleasures and recreation were promised here?
Entering by the courtyard to a cosmic embrace of light and welcome,
Lovingly decorated in interesting, intriguing and pleasing things inside outside:
Inside; Picassos’, Van Goghs’, chandeliers, paintings, plants and flowerpots in silken robes;
Outside; tall straight pines punched skywards above twisted oaks tormented by disused leprechaun beards....
When the house fell asleep I went outside.
There were no sounds except from the rolling waves and occasional tear drops from the trees.
And after sitting there motionless for some time and no company except some fine wine;
I heard their light footsteps in the absolute darkness.
They were watching me. I could feel their eyes;
And their indignation and consternation as I disturbed their nocturnal ambulation.
The absolute darkness poured over me and chilled my spine.
We are all pilgrims looking for our gold, some recreation, something good, something bold.
If you go outside and listen for them in the deepest quiet of night, you can unmask them.
There are loads of leprechauns here alright.
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