Nature is taking advantage of the absence of human activity during lockdown; left unchecked by the hand of man there is an explosion of wildness even in urban areas like Ballina.
Foraging along the deserted banks of the River Moy, beneath the silent Cathedral belfry, life as normal continues for the piping waders, deaf to the struggles of the human world.
The following lines from Shakespeare seem appropriate at this worrying and unprecedented time when self-isolation and entire continents in lockdown seem our only defence against Coronavirus (COVID-19).
It’s late-February and a succession of storms have just swept across the Atlantic from Arctic Canada churning the vast ocean into a raging sea swell and sending gigantic waves thundering into the coast.
An early morning walk took me into a foggy, mysterious world of curious shapes, faint silhouettes and a monochrome, wintry landscape not yet warmed by the rising sun.
The walk in Brackloon Wood on an overcast winter morning with the ever-present threat of more rain indicated a brisk dash around the looped trail rather than our usual ramble and dally savouring the delights of nature.
Hearing the happy hum of locals enjoying a celebration in front of Denny’s Ferry Bar in Rossport was an aural delight to complement the visual wonders that awaited as we began our ramble around this lovely North Mayo headland that looks out on the breadth of Broadhaven Bay. Facing the sea, and set in a […]
My purple fingers gave the game away. The tell-tale signs of my blackberry picking on a sunny afternoon as I slowly feasted my way along the briers fringing a hilly boreen near Ballycastle.
Only the lyrical words of a poet could give meaning to the sad origins of Bunlahinch Clapper Bridge by the coast near Killeen, south of Louisburgh, a unique relic among Irish bridges and a reminder of a sad episode in Mayo’s tragic past.
A brisk south-westerly lifted the menagerie of cartoon character kites over the crescent of Trawmore strand in Keel.