Wild Foxgloves appear in a new place each year, especially some old patch that has been recently cleared. A corner of rocky earth suddenly gives birth to an abundance of the most exotic of our wildflowers. They nestle under trees and festoon the hedgerows. They peep . . .
We listen for the sound of the soft turf giving way with each footstep. We watch every little rustle in the leafy undergrowth. . . .
We are busy; the bees, the hoverflies and us. We are buzzing, and flitting and re-focussing our . . .
It's 10 years ago, our first night in the new house and I can't sleep for excitement. It is such a quiet spot and all I can hear is the sound of the endless silence ringing in my ears. I can't stop myself listening and trying to hear something I can recognise. But in no . . .
Special times come and go so fast. The one beautiful evening this summer. That last photo opportunity of the day. The final moments of the slithering sinking sun. After a pet day on Rossbeigh Strand, that elusive sun is tracked until it's very last golden seconds of . . .