Suddenly it's winter. A time I savour. The inclination is to hibernate, pause, mull over stuff. It's a time for saying no. A time to rest. A time to enjoy early frosty mornings. Although in truth we get very few of them here in the South East of Ireland. The changing seasons are a . . .
It's a time of the year for mulling things over. Today, in a lull, between rain storms, I stand on the shore in Annestown and feel the power of the sea overwhelm the questions I have queuing up from 2015. Like fragments of flotsam and jetsam they end up in flithers on the high tide . . .
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 . . .