Sunday afternoon…picking flowers in the gardens.
This feels like the full, quiet days before giving birth…
I have often felt a slowness as time ascends towards Midsummer…it’s as though Mother Earth is not yet ready to let go…
Evenings merge with night as daylight seems eternal in the west of Ireland…Ox-Eye Daisies reach up toward the sun, basking in summer.
Returning from Belfast and the soft hum of the city to this place of quiet solitude, this otherworldly paradise of sights and scents…
Far back from the lane, this little cottage nestles into silence, a place of tranquil tolerance, a timeless existence at midsummer.
Ground Elder, the bane of many gardeners, is allowed her magnificence here, frothy lace adorning a mantle of green. Ragged Robin dances by the wheels of an old bike.
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