Needing balm, something to soothe and cool, I turned again to the simple task of looking. Fired up and blasted off like a rocket that morning, by the end of the day I was dragging myself around. Too many stories had caught my eye. There were so many burrows to explore. Strategies and crucial . . .
We are wandering close to the edge of our future. While the International Monetary Fund pack their bags we in Ireland are left with much unfinished business. My usually upbeat tribe of creatives are struggling to stay grounded. Looking for direction, going up blind . . .
It's messy. Through a blurry haze, the camera is loving raindrops and turning them into bokeh. Very little input from the photographer on this walk except maybe clicking the shutter. Questions are meandering in and out of the two boney hemispheres between my ears. Round and round. How . . .
It's one of those nights, summer turning to autumn, when the sun sends sideways glances at the earth and turns the day's heat into shades of pink and gold. We are walking on the cliffs at Garrarus and at each further climb towards the top field we stop and watch it disappear . . .
At least once a year there has to be a Butterfly Blitz on Foxglove Lane and today's the day!! That's it plain and simple........ . . .
There's grey and then there's grey in it. Thin milky grey that comes down as a low cloud, covering up beauty and bringing the whole country to it's knees for the lack of light. The thundering grey of darkening skies and seas. Soaked up by the eye, bringing softness and balm to . . .
The cafe near Coumenoule The lush Montbretia hedgerows of the Dingle Penninsula The Surf School in Inch Mr Orange Shorts in Coumenoule Does all this orange clash horribly with the foxglovish . . .
It fills the rocky hill outside the window. Where there has been such little growth so far, a smoldering blaze of flowers all contained in frightening thorny branches. The sun warms the flowers so that their sweetest coconut scent fills the . . .