Nature is not a place to visit. It is home. Gary Snyder There comes a point in every journey when you turn for home. For me it's the last twisty turn of a boreen, onto our meandering lane. This first bend of the lane is also the top of a hill and just before I set off on the last mile, I can take in the sweep of the lake, the valley and the . . .
Underneath the surface
Some towns were barely touched by the "boomiest" boom Ireland never had. Today a small dog, waiting for his master to return from the match, is alone amongst empty shops, messy paint jobs and abandoned petrol pumps. Some buildings change hands every few months; go from being a sweet shop to being a cafe, and back again. But other shop . . .
Blogging and the things that make us more alive
No artist is pleased… There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive....... Martha Graham Photoblogging has brought me deep into the world of light and mystery, ordinary everyday beauty, friendship across the world and back on a path to writing. It's been every week now for . . .
Out of the shadows
We feel most alive in the presence of the Beautiful for it meets the needs of our soul. John O Donoghue It wasn't a great summer; grey skies, too much rain, cold seas. But for a couple of days the golden sun lit up our lives and we all came out of the shadows. Photographers call it the "golden hour". It's that time of . . .
Those dark elements
You are on your knees in a lavender patch, following the music of bees. In the distance a harvester is droning, and the evening sun highlights wings and petals. You are obsessing about the need for a soft bed and a warm hearth as the autumn sets in; for a safe place to pause, for a warm . . .
Up all night at the Martello Tower : 20.8.15
“The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.” ― James Joyce, Ulysses We spent one night only, camping near the Martello Tower in Sandycove, Dublin. It features in the opening chapter of James Joyce's Ulysses, so they say. All night long they came and went, up and down the walkway from Sandycove to the 40 Foot (famous . . .
Open heart, cold sea
I checked the sea temperature today. Not much more than 13/14 degrees centigrade anywhere in Ireland. This year the cold sea water was harder to bear. By the time we arrive in Kerry our friends are already a couple of weeks into the rhythm of twice daily swims. They glow from endorphins, icy water and warm wine. . . .
The wildest thing
"Ten times a day something happens to me like this - some strengthening throb of amazement - some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness." Mary Oliver See more images from my wild garden and from Ireland's lush . . .
The new arrivals
It's always a strange one returning to your real home after travelling for a while. There are so many mixed emotions. So when our resident hare family turned up with two babes it eased the transition. Irish Hares have lived in our couple of acres as long as we have been here. Since the land around us was cleared, this wild patch may be . . .
Endings
This crop's life in the field, glowing in the evening sun. In the cycle of farming, beginning anew, harvesting seeds, some endings are also beginnings. . . .
