Up until “the crash” I used to work in an office in the centre of Waterford. I loved the sense of community around the city centre and throughout the boom years there was a bit of a buzz developing. At lunchtime every day the local offices would empty out into the streets. All the women in our office would take a hike across town and a twirl . . .
Clarissa Pinkola Estes posted a letter for her many fans last week. Her book Women who run with the wolves took 20 years and 42 rejection letters to find publication and become one of my all time inspirational books. In the letter she said.... "Stories are medicine. Medicine for the world. Heavy medicine carried . . .
"The March Hare will be much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won't be raving mad – at least not so mad as it was in March." thus spoke Alice, in Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll Last year he was a fluffy bundle. Now he has grown into young Master Hare. In between . . .
A quiet moment of contemplation from one of my friends. When life is a bit hectic, remember to stop and smell the mint....says she.......More contemplative rabbits here . . .
Sometimes they sit staring into space or take small naps in mid-nibble. As the sun goes down one cuddles up to a rock, settles down and I am left wondering who will survive the stoats and the foxes tonight? I know now from my lens that rabbits have completely individual faces. Some are braver than others and they seem to . . .
A young rabbit joined me for breakfast this morning. There were moments of complete relaxation while we both nibbled. I knew this was a temporary respite. As soon as there was a flicker of the unexpected one of us would bolt for safety. Then I turned my head for a moment and he was gone. . . .
He gathers windfalls and leaves them on the white washed gate post. I used to think it was an invitation to help yourself. Now I know it's a stash he's keeps for the horses. As the evening sun sparkles on the lake, he takes a few in his pocket and wanders down towards the waterside field. I was there tonight and . . .
When would he arrive with breakfast? The snow had settled as it rarely ever does. The hours were passing and the icy grass was none too appetising. The mare heard the engine before the foal even realised that at last he was on his way. Bale after bale of warm hay, thrown over the hedge. Steam rose from it as they both dived . . .
As the evening draws in, the snow settles and I ponder the long trip I have to make that next day. The forecast suggests it will linger long enough for a dawn ramble before I head off. Just as the sun rises I am out on the snowy lane. One set of tyre tracks tell me that my neighbour has already made it up the hill. This . . .
My children once explained to me that although animals share our world, we treat them as inferior instead of as different. O yes they argued humans think we are vastly superior, so clever, so advanced. But we are wrong they said, all the beings on the planet are just different versions of life, intelligence, adaptation. Each have . . .