Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 4
Saturday, March 17
Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh!
(Happy St. Patrick's Day!)
I'd already been there, in the south, for 3 weeks. It hadn't felt right. It hadn't felt like I imagined.
Then, heading north, finally: Home! That's what I felt...Home. I was where I had longed to be for so many years.
Looking out over the stoney cliffs, hearing the surf smashing at their knees, home behind me. Before me lie the whole of the Atlantic, stretched all the way to the shores of America, where my family went more than a 100 years ago.
I could sit there all day, hearing the waves, feeling the wind on my face, the sun warming my head, feet dangling...700 feet above that blue-grey water.
I had always felt a part of me existed elsewhere, that there was not so much a piece missing, but a piece apart. Looking out over the fields; a quilt of greens, edged in the gray-brown stones of fences. Clear blue skies stretching forever above. I was there, finally. Even in its mists and gloom I felt its welcoming embrace: Céad míle fáilte!
It's been six years now since I've been back, since I've been "home", and still I ache for it, for my green fields and cool weather, for both it's sun and it's mizzle. For Ireland.
I'd already been there, in the south, for 3 weeks. It hadn't felt right. It hadn't felt like I imagined.
Then, heading north, finally: Home! That's what I felt...Home. I was where I had longed to be for so many years.
Looking out over the stoney cliffs, hearing the surf smashing at their knees, home behind me. Before me lie the whole of the Atlantic, stretched all the way to the shores of America, where my family went more than a 100 years ago.
I could sit there all day, hearing the waves, feeling the wind on my face, the sun warming my head, feet dangling...700 feet above that blue-grey water.
I had always felt a part of me existed elsewhere, that there was not so much a piece missing, but a piece apart. Looking out over the fields; a quilt of greens, edged in the gray-brown stones of fences. Clear blue skies stretching forever above.
It's been six years now since I've been back, since I've been "home", and still I ache for it, for my green fields and cool weather, for both it's sun and it's mizzle. For Ireland.
Filed under
Photography,
Writing
Tuesday, January 31
Newborn Photographs
Filed under
Henry James and Elanor Grow Up,
Photography,
Triplets
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