Cycling in Killarney

I've officially decided that the best money I've ever spent was 12.50 euro to rent a bike in Killarney. It was the most glorious day. Sarah, Eowyn and I set out on the bikes around 9:30 am while it was slightly raining. Once we were on the main road it was no longer slightly raining, but pouring. I had my hooded raincoat on, but my face and hands were drenched and cold. On the bus ride home from Killarney, I wrote the following about my day.

The views in Killarney National Park are simply amazing; I have never seen anything so beautiful. Standing at the edge of the lake, I stared in awe at the deep-green hills beyond. Instead of snow-capped mountains, these were fog-capped. Everything looked so pure, undisturbed, organic; the fallen tree isn't carried away, but rather completely covered in the thickest moss.
Prior to arriving at the park, regret swam throiugh my mind. As I repeatedly blinked my eyes to see through the blinding rain, I began to wish I hadn't rented the bike. Riding into the rain, I could no longer distinguish between water and snot on my saturated visage. Upon entering the park, however, the thick canopy of leaves above helped to assuage the desperately falling rain. Elated to be cycling amongst such beauty, my mind forgot about my body's complaints for a while. My biggest worry became my camera, as it nestled in a zippered pocket of my rain jacket; I hoped the coat's waterproofing was sufficient to guard it from Ireland's moisture. She held up well and captured the sights of vast lakes, rocky hills, mossy trees.
A blonde-curly child with a pink puffing face blocked the path with her whining, forcing me to dismount and run my bike up the hill. Families with young ones should stick to easier routes. In these woods so thick, I could live and go unnoticed, if I could manage to stay clear of heavily-passed trails.
Resting in a cottage-turned cafe for afternoon tea, I eavesdropped on the family near by. Telling her two young daughters they will go eat outside, a mother is met with the reply, "But I want to stay in here!" The elder daughter, in all her seven-yeared-wisdom, changes sister's mind with just one phrase: "But if we eat outside, we can have a look at the world!" And what a world it'd be if she were covered with the lakes and lands of Killarney.
My muscles feel the stress of the day's bike ride, but my mind couldn't be more satisfied, renewed, at ease. Killarney gagne le medaille d'or, selon moi. Today my company was lovely, but had I been alone and with no watch's ticking stress, I would have laid in the grass at the lake's glassy edge. Perhaps if I were still and slept like Van Winkle, nature would give me a blanket of moss to warm after the setting of the sun. Forever I'd spend cycling through Killarney National Park, if only I had time to spare. Never have I been fond of countryside or rural quiet until Ireland. I think it's because hills in the states aren't pocketed with sheep. Parks at home are not comparable to Killarney's peace.