The last wintry image in the series of this little beautiful red Burren whirlwind.
It is officially spring now, however the air still has a frosty bite to it, the scent of winter lingering… It won’t be long though, before it loosens its grip entirely. This winter’s day portrayed in this photograph, is one of the most memorable days of winter for me. And
A red squirrel in the Burren, is a rare sight. And a beautiful sight too that only brings joy. I am lucky to have this one visiting daily.
A red squirrel in the Burren.
I am told it’s a rare sign.
The robin always has something to say and it is always worth taking the time to listen.
Grunge – Robin & Goldfinch.
Grunge – Robin (II)
I spent the entire wintry day of storm Darcy window gazing, feeding the birds, breaking the ice on their water and photographing these beautiful winged creatures braving the storm and the snow. They have no other choice. Such strength in such fragile bodies. I marvel at their existence. Every single day. Observing. Listening. Learning. Unlearning.
I am attracted to imperfect and unpolished photography. Photography with some grit and grain. A bit raw, a bit solitary. Photography as stillpoints in the eye of a turbulent world. Sometimes quite abstract and sometimes like this next series of photographs, with a grungy touch to them. Sometimes this style makes my photography being referred to as paintings. I kind of like that too. My camera simultaneously the lens and the paintbrush with which I capture the world as I see it….
The image of Luka Blooms new album ‘out of the blue’.
I’m honoured to have my photograph as the cover of his new album.
Snow in the Burren is as beautiful as it is rare.
Morning light and long shadows…
The rain is back, but the memory of snow lingers.
Snow in the Burren.
I’ve never been able to capture my friend the winged one in flight, however I still enjoy the feeling of this photograph, from one of the first days it flew towards me, leaving the safe shelter of the bush and branches and landed on my camera.
If there’s one thing I’ve rarely been attracted to photographing, it is flowers. With the exception of sunflowers. And dandelions at their last grasp of the familiar world, the only world they have known, before the winds pull the seeds from their place of origin and carry them to unknown
So this is how you clean your feathers and bath in the rays of the early summer’s sun. I hadn’t known this friendly winged one for long before it displayed the utmost trust by making itself entirely vulnerable in my presence by splaying itself on the ground like this, trusting
Winter went, spring happened, a whole lot of other things happened, and then June arrived and in the midst of it all, this beautiful little curious winged one all of a sudden sat on a branch next to me, still with its guardian parent looking after its safety and therefore