It's almost impossible to stop yourself snapping everything that moves when you arrive in a new place. I am trying to be more disciplined but still when I got to upload my first batch of images, there were over 500! So today let me begin with a taster of the colour and textures of Northern . . .
I couldn't help myself! I was dipping into some old travel stories when I got lost in dreams and memories. One of the joys of photography, is that when you study a place through your own lens, you remember details, feelings, smells, weather. I never seem to forget where I was and what . . .
The light was returning. I had even opened my big mouth to utter the words- At last Spring is here! That was when the storms and the winter gales hit us with a vengeance. I was taking part in a #100DaysofWalking challenge, eating for the good of my bones and cutting out all things . . .
This we have now is not imagination. This is not grief or joy. Nor a judging state, or an elation, or sadness. Those come and go. This is the presence that doesn't. Rumi It's not that I didn't already know. I had been aware of the decline in wild things for the last few . . .
I see her walking on a path through a pathless forest or a maze, a labyrinth. As she walks, she spins and the fine threads fall behind her following her way, telling where she is . . .
We see trees. What more do we need? Maira Kalman Here is 2019. The new beginning is a special time of the year. Darker days are good news for nerds and introverts allowing us maximum time to read and journal. I've been mooching about with spider diagrams and wanting to . . .
Christmas in Ireland this year was a grey and murky affair, with Atlantic soft weather pouring in from the west. As I write this we are in the twilight zone between years, so after the festivities were over it was time for reflecting on 2018 and thinking about what word to choose for . . .
She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails. Elizabeth Edwards It was my son who called me to the window as this deep pink sunset filled the sky. It never ceases to draw us there to stand and stare. You can keep your golden yellow . . .
This is from my journal, NYC, 2016..... "Everyday I meet the same people as I walk from the subway to my room on Second Avenue. I'm shy with the camera because I'm really only relaxed with Mother Nature as my collaborator. She's a little bit scarce around the streets of NYC so I have to . . .
Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through your veins. You were made to . . .