How did rural living get to be so exciting! When I started to blog in 2011 I didn't have a plan or any idea where I might be going. In my work life I had chosen to follow an activist path rather than an artistic one. Gradually over the those years, I began returning to . . .
Are we sharing similar thoughts as we watch the cattle being fed? Fodder. Winter. Action. The structure of everything is revealed by winter, so I am aware of this Robin following me. It's a territorial thing with Robins, they own the place. Making my way along the lane, he . . .
At first it's tentative. One foot in, one foot out. The icy winds don't help. The community has retreated. Keeping their heads down. Winter is steadfast in it's stagnation. Then suddenly all bets are off. We start to re-emerge, stand on corners and chat, bend down and pull a few weeds from the . . .
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 . . .
He was walking towards me from further on up the hill. We often have conversations about the state of the country, we grumble about the weather or maybe share the latest from the children who live abroad. I usually stop photographing for the duration of the chat and sometimes we walk on a little . . .