When my wife and I lived on Kauai, we often visited Hanalei and went for sunset walks on the beach. It was then, I would look around at the mountains, the ocean, the waterfalls, the fading light and the distant moon, and say, “Can you believe we live here?” 

We would stand there, in awe of the beauty surrounding us in the place we called home for a few short years.  

There were days it didn’t seem real, that it was a pretend life. How could this be that we live in such a place as this? Nothing can match this, I thought. 

And then, we returned to Coeur d’Alene, where I often find myself saying the same thing:  

“Can you believe we live here?”

So many magical spots.

I’m not sure anything beats morning swims at Sanders Beach, when I often have the place to myself, and when finished, just looking out at the scenery and if I’m lucky, an osprey will soar past. 

Or biking home from Higgens Point, when I look out on Lake Coeur d’Alene and watch the boats and kayakers. 

Of course, running on Tubbs Hill and around the boardwalk is quite literally priceless. 

I find great pleasure in shooting free throws out back by our garage, where the basketball hoop hangs. There is peace in our backyard campfires.

I consider myself fortunate that I enjoy simple things in life, but perhaps that comes naturally when you don’t have a lot of money. 

Perhaps that explains why out of our visits to Ireland, my favorite moment was not enjoying a Guinness while listening to music in Kilkenny, playing golf with the Cliffs of Moher in the background, boating in Dingle Bay or driving the Sally Gap on the Wicklow Mountains. 

My favorite moment was something much more basic and typical of Ireland.

It came on a typical rainy day as my wife and I were holding umbrellas overhead and walking on a wooded path, with a stream on one side and mountains on the other. There was no one around when we heard something and turned to see sheep headed our way, following in our footsteps.  

There was a lot of bleating as they came at us, about 100 of them. Most stared at us, uncertain of our roles. But before they reached us, they turned left and went up a hill to a meadow. They seemed to know they were home. A small van followed, the driver beeping the horn to keep them going. When the last sheep passed, the driver gave us a smile and a wave. I nodded and waved back. 

Now, whenever I think of Ireland, I think of those few minutes when my wife and I were standing in the rain, umbrellas in hand and watching sheep pass by. 

It was nothing grand, nothing extraordinary. Yet, we felt like we were part of something special. 

Which is how I often feel about Coeur d’Alene. It's something special. Life here, though, feels very real. And it is every bit as beautiful as Kauai.

So when this question comes up, “Can you believe we live here?” I love knowing the answer is yes.

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Bill Buley is the assistant managing editor of The Press. He can be reached at [email protected]