Posts on Ripening
Like a trail through a forest, which becomes more and more faint and finally seems to diminish to a nothing, traditional psychological theory, too soon runs out for the creative, the gifted, the deep woman. Traditional psychology is often spare or entirely silent about deeper issues important to women; the archetypal, the intuitive, the sexual and cyclical, the ages of women, a woman's way, a woman's knowing, her creative fire.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Old graveyards can be places of great wild beauty. This one, St. Mary’s Church of Ireland in Dungarvan, County Waterford, fronts onto the shoreline and is blanketed in wildflowers. Did some one with an eye for eco-design create such a beautiful tranquil meadow? Over time the graves here have become one duvet of daisies. Modern graveyards too […]
The maple tree, a present from my Dad, has always struggled with the prevailing south westerlies. Trees in Ireland are bent over towards the east, from gales blowing up from the Atlantic. This elegant maple has always been out of place in our wild and lazy couple of acres, home of beech, willow and pine trees. […]
You won’t usually find me photographing dying exotic flowers. But these ones are ethically traded and were left on the shelf of the local supermarket. Himself succumbed to their vibrant beauty. They just got better and better as they shrivelled up and died. Yes, BETTER! You can see for yourself, although maybe […]
In the middle of the road of my life I awoke in a dark wood, where the true way was wholly lost. Dante Alighieri David Whyte has a great image in his audio set, Midlife and the Great Unknown. He describes the moment when you are at the end of a project or when you […]
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.
It’s been a busy time for myself and the birds around here. There are a number of nesting families very close by and I am watching their progress from my desk. There’s a nest of Blue Tits just above the window, a pair of Great Tits under the granite bird bath, and […]
Every year at least once I remember the lines of this poem. Usually it’s during Autumn in the dazzling russets of dying leaves. This year it was while walking in Mount Congreve during Magnolia time. Magnolias were flowering on dark branches and there are some ancient specimens there, but it was the dying […]
It’s been a great year. One of the best. After years of campaigning for women’s rights, I turned 60 and realised I could finally LIVE liberation rather than just hoping for it. What took me so long? What changed? Growing up in Ireland during a different era, we girls were rewarded […]
Just before they die off for the winter they have their most spectacular show. Faded edges, crinkled old flowers, their faces a little worse for wear. The October sun catches them in their last glory. Having been down this path before, I know there will be one more beautiful […]