a routine round of golf?

They say in golfing that no two holes are ever the same, you can play the same hole on the same course at the same time every day for a year and the result will be different and I have to say that until I holidayed in Killarney, County Kerry. My first round of the vacation took place on the Beaufort Golf Club course. I am average, playing off 22, I win some and lose some and occasionally draw some. Nothing spectacular but great exercise and chat.
My first three holes I played one over par but I wasn't concerned. The views were spectacular, the McGillycuddy Reeks stood majestically in the background sweeping down to the lakes. The weather was perfect, a little overcast with a gentle warm breeze. The holes continued but I was concentrating on the relaxation of nature, the gentle undulations of the man made fairways abruptly stopped by the rough and beyond the rough was real nature. Huge native trees shrouded the ferns and bluebells. The smell of wild garlic by the pockets of water, ponds and streams. I could hear ducks and geese and the chirping of field birds, I even thought I heard a corn crake. After the forteenth I was 8 over par but had decided not to play the next day but to climb Carrantouhill, the highest peak. A local man had told me that if you couldn't see the mountain it was raining and if you could see it, it was about to rain. He made me laugh but told me lots of stories about poachers, myths and characters from the locality. Apparently a priest would row across the Upper Lake every Sunday to take Mass in a chapel for mountain folk. It sounded beautiful but I could imagine it was tough in cold bitter weather.

So there I was four holes to go and I wished I was elsewhere, the golf was good but nature was better, I was so relaxed and as I set up my tee shot on the fifteenth all I could hear was the sounds of nature around me, the buzz of insects, the long grass swaying in the breeze, the songs of blackbirds and the croaking of frogs. Just beyond the green was a castle ruin with ivy twisting round the tower and while I was swinging my shot I was kind of watching two blackbirds fighting on the rampart, I struck the ball and it leapt in the air. I was watching the ball and the birds and then Gloria, who I was playing with started whooping, "A hole in one, Julia, way to go." An impossible dream, a thing I never thought I would ever achieve, I had never dreamt of ever dropping a hole in one. A time for celebration, we quickly finished the rest of our round and sat outside the clubhouse sipping a lovely New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and smiling. Finally I broached the subject with Glo, "I think I was being taught a lesson today, when I let go of all my troubles and concentrated only on the glories of nature I achieved the impossible."