Watching the swallows gather here, like ourselves, in the warm, Southern air, it’s strange to imagine their journey here, having left – who knows? from West Cork…
Early morning swim.
Swallows skim the pool to sip.
Have they come from home?
(26/10/12)
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Portugal! Watching huge flocks of stately stork silhouettes leave their nesting area in the morning and return in the evening…
Like leaves in a spring,
storks spiral intricately
in Moorish patterns.
(19/10/12)
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It’s wet, it’s mild, it’s cloudy and foggy, it’s all topsy-turvy the whole year, even the plants don’t know what to make of it:
The seasons, haywire:
rhododendrons flowering
as oak and ash bronze.
(12/10/12)
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No sign of the Indian Summer for which we’d been hoping and waiting. In the woods…
Moss-dripping branches
reach out, creaking, to touch light.
Pine needles whisper.
(05/10/12)