We come from a harsh history ourselves; 800 years of occupation, a terrible famine which halved the population and the ongoing loss of emigration which goes on to this day. We didn't forget any of it. That kind of pervasive pain is passed down. Sometimes it's their absence that brings home the memories. What they left behind, the empty . . .
The butterflies make a come back
Thank you all for the supportive comments and thoughts you shared on the decline of butterflies and insects here. Out of the blue they are making a bit of a come back! The butterfly bush is in the latter part of it's flowering season yet this is the first dancing butterflies show of the summer. I mentioned our "loose garden" . . .
Set free in a loose garden
We inhaled the scent of herbs on the soft balmy air. Occasional yelps of joy bounced across the lake as youngsters leapt into the water from the dodgy bough that leans out over the deeper water. The Irish feel such deep relaxation in our bodies when the temperatures soar. So we are elated by this evening, warm enough to sit . . .
Warblers, Andy Warhol and the beautiful art of land
Small flocks of warblers have invaded the herb garden and I've taken a big shine to them. I think this one is a Chiff-chaff but as ever I am open to correction by my twitcher friends. This summer there are fewer butterflies and insects but a lot more warblers. My sister was visiting from Sweden and we both remarked on the eery silence and lack . . .
Learning lessons in street photography
Promenade Festival, Tramore Train station, London Pride Parade, Vienna Two young Vikings, Waterford Woman posing, Vienna Familiar sight everywhere More often to be found sneaking up on . . .
A man who knows his flowers
When the streets of Vienna are getting too hot to bear, I duck into a side street flower shop. It's the bunches of "weeds" in the window that first catch my eye; familiar wildflowers as carrot and catmint, laurel leaves and common grasses, in bouquets and tall vases. As I stick my head in the door I ask "do you . . .
“Stop whining and get back to work!” ~Pilgrimage ~July
That blue grey Irish light of summer It's been raining Wildflowers after the rain really sparkle Glistening foxglove fingers He introduces himself to a field of cattle The bull pokes his nose . . .
Beginning the descent #Pilgrimage~ July
Mountains of the Mani Peninsula Beauty underfoot with every step Down to the land and sea near Pylos Beau Lotto's TED talk about perception and reality. So today I'm thinking about the fact that the only thing that is certain is uncertainty. (Yes that's the kind of . . .
In stillness
They excel in stillness. Sitting and watching. Waiting and listening. On the corner, on a chair outside the front door, at the gate to the garden. Once I asked a Native American for a clue to the future. Am on on the right path I asked her? She was supposed to be a seer of sorts and looked harshly into my . . .
Wild foxgloves on the lane
Wild Foxgloves appear in a new place each year, especially some old patch that has been recently cleared. A corner of rocky earth suddenly gives birth to an abundance of the most exotic of our wildflowers. They nestle under trees and festoon the hedgerows. They peep over the tallest grasses and parade their purply pink . . .
