Winding Roads

Winding Comeragh roadOn winding roads, the destination appears within reach, around the next corner, past weathered clumps of dried grass, each twist and turn bringing more of the same. Time waits for no man, so they say, but I’m not in a hurry, the air is fresh, clean. Mountain sheep invite me to stay awhile. We meet in mutual consideration, acknowledge footsteps, insignificant in eyes that long only to arrive. This winding, mountain road holds me, spellbound, rooted, my destination, here, now.

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.
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2 Responses to Winding Roads

  1. nice journeying from the inside and outside…

    Like

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