It isn't when you see the shamrock on the Aer Lingus plane you're about to hop on... though that helps.  And it isn't when you have your first full Irish breakfast in your first B&B that also happens to be the local pub... though that helps too.  It's when you see the way the sun creates light and shadows on rolling hills and illuminates shades of green you never knew existed.  It's when you hear the first notes of the bohran at a trad music session with a Bulmers in your hand.  It's when you step into the Trinity College Library and realize the greatest words ever written by the greatest minds who ever lived are contained within these walls.  It's fish and chips with extra vinegar, it's dropping everything for afternoon tea and scones, it's that last bite of sticky toffee pudding.  It's meeting new friends, it's falling in love, it's recreating moments in your family history.  It's leaning back into time to catch the gift of gab.  It's bottle feeding baby lambs, seeing the colorful Smartie houses for the first time, discovering your spirituality as you claw to the top of Croagh Patrick on your hands and knees.