Love-hearts and ferris wheels and Venus.

Although I am looking forward to more daytime shots soon, this night-time shooting is like seeing a different world. Everything is so still. You feel like the city is your secret.

Last night.




One more shot of the Supermoon.



Supermoon, April 2020

The only photo that turned out ‘ok’ of the supermoon.

My hands are apparently steadier than I realised! X


My town under the Supermoon

A few photos from a clandestine midnight wander around town last week under the Supermoon.

Although I don’t want to see Galway in this state for much longer (or EVER again), it was pretty magical.

I always thought it was the people who made this place so electric, but I may stand corrected. That night I had the city to myself; there wasn’t a soul around. And it was so silent and still that it felt like humans had never been there at all.

You could still feel the ‘woowoo’ in the air. It turns out the city itself is just plain magical, with or without Us.  Maybe we just liven it up a bit. X


“It’s OK to feel overwhelmed” – Liz Gilbert

This morning I was listening to this talk with Liz Gilbert. A few takeaways:

1) If you are suffering from empathetic overload, try replacing your empathy with compassion. That way, you are not *taking on* someone else’s suffering, but instead remaining strong in yourself so that you are able to help, and, of course, look after yourself. Pace yourselves; ‘this is a marathon, not a sprint’.

2) Replace the words ‘quarantine’ or ‘self-isolation’ or ‘lockdown’ with ‘In Retreat’.

…also so many other points that lit up my brain. I would highly recommend a listen.



A rare day-time walk.

I am lucky to live in the nicest 2km stretch in the world.

And, thankfully, people are sticking to the rules and it is ‘safe’ to wander in these parts today.

Thank you!

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R.I.P. Tim Robinson

Ah no.

I am very sorry to hear that Tim Robinson has passed on.

I’ve been reading his books while staying indoors.

Have been trying to get a printed Connemara map for a long time now.

R.I.P. Tim.

I hope heaven is as pleasing to your eyes as Connemara has been. ❤️

One day at a time.

I am trying to keep busy with as many creative projects as possible. I am hoping I won’t feel this way for long, but the daytime walks I find too stressful. The feeling of being on ‘high alert’ and needing to back away from every human you come across is exhausting, and INCREDIBLY counter-intuitive, so I’ve taken the opportunity to learn how to take better night images. So far, I have learned two things:

1) Cities at night-time are BEAUTIFUL. Especially when you are fortunate enough to live near the sea. So peaceful.

2) I definitely need a tripod!


The last little being I shall touch for awhile.


This was last week.

She wandered over, sat with her back to me about three feet away, then slowly backed right onto my lap.

When this is over I shall give all the scritches to every dog I meet.

…And possibly humans as well!



So, this is Grief.


A very dear friend of mine has been listening to my non-sensical ramblings the last week, and quietly emailed me this article this morning. ( I actually just read the title – namely the word ‘grief’ and started bawling into my CocoPops.

I keep feeling like I am coming down with something, headache, exhaustion, pain in my chest. And I think I can safely say I am physically healthy, but grieving hard for what is happening right now. My heart hurts so much these days. It’s one of the few times I’ve wished I Was tougher. This ain’t fun. Dear Covid-19, I’m not scared of you, this feeling I have now is ten times worse than what you can do to me.

I’m trying to remind myself that, in this moment, I am safe, I can breathe, I am ok. It’s when my mind broadens to consider the sweeping scale of this beast that I get the wind knocked out of me. The reality that there is nothing I can do to help, or to control what is happening. We all like to feel some sort of control. Accepting this and surrendering to whatever happens is terrifying for any human.

If any of this resonates, have a read of this piece. Excellent insight. I mean, I’m still bawling, but at least I know I haven’t totally lost the plot. It’s starting to make *some* sort of sense.
Love you all! x


*Photo from article. Not mine.


We Will Grow Back!

Was in my garden all afternoon.

I’ve no proper shovel but my hands did the trick.

There’s nothing like having your hands in the muck while you rant at the poor garden gnome to set your head right again.

I’ll go down tomorrow morning and find him and his little wheel-barrow long gone, I’m sure.

He got a tearful earful today.

“We will grow back!”


Hello World.

I had so much I wanted to write down over the last week. It’s been a rollercoaster ride for all of us. One that we aren’t going to be able to get off for a good while. One minute I’ve been so touched by the actions of Humans, both those near me as well as people I’m reading about, I feel strong, and positive; and then the next minute I am so overwhelmed and afraid for everyone. I stopped reading the news for a few days, then dipped back in to it, and had a bad shock at the deterioration of the countries who have been worst-hit. I don’t know which is best, to keep informed and avoid that shock again, or to tap out completely. Neither feels healthy. And then another part of me feels so horrible about hiding away in my house while others are out risking themselves to help others. It is so difficult to know what to do.
So, here I am. At home, trying to put all of this focus into projects I have been working on since the beginning of the New Year. These projects have been a balm for this crazy time. Last night my housemate and I had a little music session and at the end I realised it was the best I’d felt in weeks. The sun is coming out here, my garden is ready to be nurtured, so I will focus on these things. That is NOT to say my thoughts aren’t with the sick and their families right now. My family is in another country, and I wouldn’t be able to get to them if they became sick. But they are healthy now and we all just need to do our best to keep it that way.

I’ve always LOVED world music, but I’ve never listened to kirtan before. However, these last few nights when I have been awake late at night, they’ve been exactly what I wanted to hear.

The cruelest thing about this virus is that the only way we can save ourselves from it is to give up the one thing we all need the most to live. Human contact and interaction. I never realised how comforting I find just standing next to a human in the queue at a shop. Or waiting for a bus. Just that ‘closeness’ means so much to me. Now we are standing 6-feet apart, with so many people looking terrified of one another. A few days ago I ventured out into a local shop and it hurt to see that fear. I felt so lonely with all of that space around me. It feels like an ocean of space. I completely understand it; they probably have family at home they want to protect. It is absolutely what we must be doing. But it is such a shock. I think this is the time we will need to learn how to be close to one another in another way. It is certainly possible.

The first person who gets a hug from me when all this is over had better have strong ribs; I will crush them!

This is the starting point for my garden. I am very lucky to have found this place with a glass-house out in the backyard. I started clearing it out and preparing the soil before Christmas, and the garlic that I planted looks very happy in the corner. So far, I’ve put down chard, baby carrots, spring onions, brussels sprouts, and peas. There are a few small panes of glass missing from above, so I see those areas as being ‘self-watering’. Handy!

March Blog Glass house

Next week I will be clearing a bed outside of the glass house for the next ‘instalment’. I had planned on growing my own food this season, but now the hours spent in the garden are also serving my mental well-being. It is so therapeutic, having your hands in the soil! I am very grateful that even while sticking to the ‘stay indoors’ rule, I have this space outside to enjoy. 

Hoping that you all stay safe and well! x

Find a hut.

Idyllic, 2019

To attain a sense of inner freedom, one must have solitude and space galore. Add to these the mastery of time, complete silence, a harsh life and surroundings of geographic grandeur. Then do the maths and find a hut. – excerpt from ‘Consolations of the Forest’, by Sylvain Tesson