There was an organic, welling silence there, standing in the sea. A quiet seemingly born from the piercing cold itself, to stretch and drift in the air and float outwards like ripples from a rock thrown into the depths. He broke the earthly silence, shaking the metal bag with a dull, rough rattle before tying
I smile as I make my way towards the marsh, binoculars dangling from my neck. A logbook and pencil are nestled in my pocket. Under my arm, I’m carrying a rather heavy book about Irish birds. You never know when you might need it! I have grown accustomed to this walk through suburban landscapes: the
There were very few houses in my West Cork townland, away back in the fifties, that did not give pride of place to the white enamel bucket inside the half-door and its companion, the Pint kitchen measure ready for the regular grand fill. The hob-kettle by the open turf-fire, which was known to burst into
Trusk Lough, a mountainy lake , a tarn , lies 5km from the town of Ballybofey. It is a popular spot with locals who go to fish, swim ,walk or meet up for a chat there . On a sunny afternoon you will see the people come, some walk ,some drive or cycle , drawn
I had a dream last night that a tsunami hit Donabate. From a height above the hill, looking far below. I watched helpless and heart beating, as the swell grew and took on a life of its own. Beginning small, a murmur of motion. Waves forming, pronounced and large, like a serpent below the sea.
Bogaimis siar chuig na seascaidí i gCorcaigh. Bhíomar inár gcónaí i mBaile an Locha – ach loch ní raibh ann! Bhí taithí againn ar dhul go dít an “Lough”, ceart go leor, ach bhí sin i mBaile Féitheán, thart ar dhá mhíle go leith ó Bhaile an Locha de shiúl na gcos. Is cuimhin liom
I sit at the icy waters’ edge, toes, feet, legs, slow descend into the murky cold blackness. Suddenly shivering, receptors on high alert, white caps move towards me to envelop my initial endeavour, almost forcing retreat. I submerge entirely and move forward, eyes closed trusting my instinct. Hands joined as in prayer, moving my body
God the Creator reached for the large box and lifted it carefully from the shelf. ‘What’s that?’ asked the apprentice. ‘Electrons. Just look at this.’ He pulled back the lid to show off the mass of tiny particles shimmering inside. The apprentice was eager to learn. ‘Electrons. What are they for?’ ‘Watch this.’ God the
When I was young in the 1950’s we lived in Dublin but every summer we decamped for two months to a caravan near Blessington, in a field beside Poulaphouca Lake. There I had the freedom to roam with my dog Pickles. He was a very special dog. His mother was a pure bred Scotty and
Water is vital for all forms of life, water moves through many cycles of evaporation, condensation, precipitation, run-off. Water comes in many forms the seas, oceans, ground- water, glaciers, ice -caps, clouds, rainwater or run -off water. Freshwater has been used by humans for generations for agriculture, fishing, heating, cooling, washing, sports, to name a
Fado, fado, when i was a young one, I walked daily, hail, rain or snow, on the banks of the river barrow near Athy, in Co. Kildare. Walking the boundaries of Laoise and Kildare, the same route as my mother and grandmother had done before me. I still walk this beautiful river today. Early summer
Julia was a strange girl. At least most of sixth class thought so. She enjoyed social media like the rest but her occasional messages were about issues in which they had little or no interest. To keep in with her class mates she found herself wading through commentary about body image, shopping bargains and celebrity