The summer light has it's moments. This year summer in Ireland has been a beauty. Sometimes later in the evening there are long shadows of delightful darkness. Darkness and light. As my year's leave moves into the final quarter I need to decide whether to return to my busy day . . .
".....let that great sweeping wind blow the fog out of her soul..." L.M. Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables) It's biting cold. Our first proper frosty morning, with a nice dollop of fog to boot. Layering up, I tip toe out into the . . .
In the middle of the road of my life I awoke in a dark wood, where the true way was wholly lost. Dante Alighieri David Whyte has a great image in his audio set, Midlife and the Great Unknown. He describes the moment when you are at the end of a project or when you have settled your . . .
The sky changes by the minute. As I am writing this, the calm ice covered landscape I was loving this morning is being battered by a westerly gale and driving heavy rain. Unsettling and mind numbingly grey to boot. I could complain, moan, slump. Every part of me wants to go . . .
Hardly a day passes that I don't appreciate living in a safe place, having a roof over my head and desk of my own to work at. Corner of a bedroom, back wall of a sitting room, attic in the middle of unopened boxes, it's never been easy to find that elusive perfect perch. So typically I try to . . .