It's one of those nights, summer turning to autumn, when the sun sends sideways glances at the earth and turns the day's heat into shades of pink and gold. We are walking on the cliffs at Garrarus and at each further climb towards the top field we stop and watch it disappear to the west. The small details catch my eye but . . .
Friendship at the edge of time
Every year there is one sure thing, we will make a journey out to the west of Ireland where the Atlantic crashes against the shoreline of Europe, last stop before New York. There will be clouds, there will be mist and there will be a sense of leaping off the edge of the world and into the benign abyss. Out past the road from Dungarvan to Youghal . . .
“You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves”
"You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves" from the Wild Geese by Mary Oliver With thanks to Grace . . .
~ A head full of notions ~
As a fully paid up and proud member of the working class, I get to enjoy a certain number of leave days every year. This week I have had 5 of them. Next week I will have 5 more...... At this early stage I'm not sure who I will be or what I will do when it's over......but there's nothing surer than I will return with a head full of . . .
Summer morning in an Irish country garden
The morning begins with 6 ducks swimming right to left in the lake at the end of the field. Then shortly afterwards 8 ducks swim back in the other direction. I am on pause. At 5 in the morning, after weeks of travelling and seeking I am slumped in a chair in front of the familiar . . .
Mid-summer
In Midsummer now brightest green and lush lasting only moments counting every one through one half shut eye land bathed in light still promising so many balmy days ahead . . .
~Tending to a nest amongst the pinkest fritillaries~
While meditating on dewy daffodils and the pinkest fritillaries underfoot, I see her swooping in. Even with a dozen or so humans chatting beneath her nest, she carries on incessantly. Over and back, a short stop on the fence post and one final dive under a window ledge. Carrying more than she can easily manage (enthusiasm and necessity) she keeps . . .
An unlikely pair of romantics
The evening light is warm as toast casting long terracotta shadows on the woodland grasses. The Robin is back! The bare branches allow me to follow him along the track. But . . .
Windswept, freckly and fairly wrinkly
While I am standing beneath this Sycamore, besotted with its golden glow, leaves are passing away in front of my eyes. A little death is taking place as each one turns, decays and falls. Autumn and it's peaceful slowing brings the inevitable truth to mind. The wrinkling up of my smily eyes like a crisping leaf, curling and fraying at . . .
Wild swimming at Brandon Creek, County Kerry
It is said that Brandon Creek in County Kerry was the point of departure for St. Brendan who set out from here in the 6th century (long before Columbus) and after seven years discovered America. In 1976 Tim Severin again set out from here in a replica boat and the following year landed in . . .
