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 view.
A pair of larks flit across the gorse at the side of the hill. A blackbird stands alert under the willows. The golden reeds facing east, usually subdued by shade are lit up by the rising sun. The house is quiet and I pad around looking for wifi. My plan is to download another New Yorker author reading a chosen short story and return to the leaba.
The sunny morning seeps in and instead I reach for the camera. It’s still cool but the sun is up now, and the wind so far is being kept at bay. The wild garden, tamed by ground cover this year is allowing the flowering plants more room to breathe. And so am I this sunny morning, breathing, slowing and settling.
Last year more photographs were taken by us humans than all the photographs EVER taken in all the years before that. We are all now part of an enormous visual community capturing our everyday lives digitally. And so here is my everyday stuff. Not much stirs here, but if it flutters or flies, I will be there soaking in the intensity of my Irish country garden.