Would you be mad for that little speck of rainbow in the deep rain filled sky? Or this bush, with its brazen head of golden curls? And would you love how he made a fence from sawn up trees, lining them up on the ditch like children, posing for family snaps? And would you be giddy about the woolliness of those lads? How they make . . .
The Comeragh Mountains lie towards the west of County Waterford. All year long we can track the sun as it sets further north or south along the high ridges, from one solstice extreme to the other. Like our elders, we tell the season and the hour by it. The weather comes to us from these mountains too and so every . . .
I wandered off the route and instead drove towards the Comeraghs. Now I was going to be late. But at least I was living dangerously! On the boreen I caught a glimpse of the mountain through a gate. The bright morning drew me up through the rise of the land and the cloud skimming the ridge. The occasional . . .
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 . . .
Christmas is here! I hope you find some solace in retreating a little from reality. Adventure stories and films, riding a one horse open sleigh across the snow, seeking out the magic in frosty dew drops. I will . . .