Sand, shells, rocks, seaweed, quiet tide.
On the beach this morning, a soft water wash in all shades of grey. Seabirds calling to a reluctant tide. Footprints in wet sand. Brambles and long ropes of ivy that tumble over the cliff edge. I meet neighbours returning from their morning dog walking exercise. Feargul says my Irish Wolfhound Ruairi, reminds him of an elderly gent on holiday in Nice. Back home again, in the garden, feathery grasses bask in the shelter. Globe thistles outlined against the sky are dying to be photographed, swallows swoon, glide and feast on summer insects. The sound of Ruairi’s panting and the silent presence of clouds that reveal deep blue holes of other worlds beyond.
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About maskednative
I live in Ireland, in an extended cottage overlooking Waterford Estuary, privvy to constant changes of light on water, colour and movement, tides and people. I am anglo-Irish and although my initial intention was to live here for a year and a day, I am still here, a blow-in to these shores for the past fifteen years. There have been countless times when I wanted to run back to England with homesickness and relief, but for one reason or another, so far, it has not been possible. I surrender, the soul of Ireland has captured me, allowed a glimpse of the world behind the mask of everyday experiences, bringing forth a mixture of words and pictures from an ordinary everyday life, filled with ordinary everydayness that I offer as a celebration, to the creator of this truly wonderful planet.
