As I write this, the robin is singing outside. The sun is slanting up over the hedge. I can hear a rook on the roof.
I heard a lot of robins in Dublin too last weekend.
It’s time. The days are lengthening. We have daffodils and snowdrops and crocuses. It’ll be Lá Fhéile Bríde in a few days.
Listen to the robin. It’s worth your while. Continue reading “Listen to the robin”
This has been the winter of the blackbird. I haven’t been out and about much for one reason or another but I seem to be seeing and hearing blackbirds wherever I go.
I haven’t seen a redwing or a fieldfare yet, maybe they’re not around, or maybe I need to get out more. Well, that’s definitely true, I do need that. Continue reading “The Winter of The Blackbird”
It is evening. I am writing on the balcony. The sun is slanting across the chalets. Its light is softening, running to red.
The chalets are mostly white, white legs, white bodies, their gables ends pristine and clear.
Shadows rise. The shadows of electrical wires rise on walls. Continue reading “On Gruissan Plage. 1: The Evening.”
The morning sun talks about today. The evening sun talks about tomorrow.
I love the evening sun the best.
The morning light’s a wonder, and it’s fresh. And whiter than the evening light, and pristine cool. It floats up over the hedge, bundled with optimism and energy, rising, encouraging something meaningful from the day. Expectant with significance, the morning sun. Continue reading “The morning sun, the evening sun”
I don’t need a reason
For what I became
I’ve got these excuses
They’re tired and lame
I don’t need a pardon, no, no, no, no, no
There’s no one left to blame
I’m leaving the table
I’m out of the game
I’m leaving the table
I’m out of the game
Leonard Cohen, I’m Leaving The Table, 2016 Continue reading “Listening to Leonard Cohen on Lavitt’s Quay”
I resolved to see some of the Film Festival this year and booked a ticket for a Polish documentary called Bracia/Brothers by Wojciech Staron and boy am I glad I did. It may be the best film I ever saw. I’m not sure yet. But it’s way up there – that’s for sure.
Two brothers, Mieczyslaw and Alfons Kułakowski have returned to Poland after an exile of 80 years (yes), in Siberia and Kazakhstan, to resume their lives as best they can. The film, shot over 8 years, tells of their lives, as they live them, now. Continue reading “Bracia / Brothers – A Masterpiece of Film”
We did a bit of sightseeing before today’s walk (our last of 2016 together) in Saint-Jean-de-Côle, which is listed as one of the most beautiful villages in France. M. Besson and most of the books had recommended it. And the Romanesque Byzantine church to Saint-Jean Baptiste was very special I must say, its stone walls almost white, with small rounded chapels to the side. They had choral music playing through the sound-system and long elegant candles (Pad and I lit two) and I could have stayed there longer and prayed. There was a map on a notice board at the side showing a walk through the village all the way to Santiago de Compostela, a good walk, beginning in Vezelay – almost 1,500 km according to Googlemaps. Now that would be a walk and a talk. But we agreed to settle for somewhat less that Friday. Maybe some other time. Continue reading “Five Days Walking in France – Day 5: Saint-Jean-de-Côle et Angoulême”
