I’ve decided to take a Blogging Break so that I can sort out the computer issues that are making posting very time consuming and tedious.
Also, have a yen to do a bit of old fashioned writing and see where that leads, especially on the poetry front.
Look forward to seeing you all in a while. Good health and happy writing.
jx
My poor old computer is reaching the end of its days and I would be delighted if you could give me any idea how good, bad or otherwise tablets are for blogging.
I’ve been used to a desktop so it would be a matter of making that switch but only if it makes sense from other people’s experience.
Thanks in anticipation. Please bear in mind that photos are important to me.
Tramore Bay, Co. Waterford
The last few days have been absolutely gorgeous here in Tramore and I’ve been taking full advantage of the friendly sea for swimming.
The water hasn’t lost much heat since last Summer and there’s a perfect sun-trap under the wall down at beach.
Swimming in the sea is one of my major addictions. I just love the freedom of running into the waves with nothing between me and the endless horizon.
I’ve never studied ‘mindfulness’ but I know that there is nowhere like the sea to bring me right into the very heart of the moment. It’s a place that demands every single ounce of my attention. Day dream for a second and a big wave comes and splashes me on the face as if to say: Hey, you’re here now, Water Baby. Wake up!
The energy of sea just feeds my whole system and I simply adore the after-glow and surge of energy as I get dressed and bounce home with a true sense of being alive.
People often stop and stare as if I’m some sort of freak who wants to live in a freezer; or they often use the word ‘brave.’ Nothing could be further from the truth. I need the sea; I crave it. I always have and I just hope that there will never be a time when I can’t manage to somehow soak in it.
I was heading out our front gate today and a young lad of about fourteen happened to be coming along the footpath. He smiled at me with one of the warmest smiles I’ve seen in a long time.
Every time I think of him, I find myself smiling too.
I’m quite sure he’s forgotten all about our ‘meeting’ but it certainly woke me up to the extent to which a smile, yes a simple smile, can light up a day, a life.
I’ve resolved to do more now than mumble some kind of acknowledgement to passing strangers and actually smile at them. It certainly won’t cost anything and it might hold a lot more value than I’ll ever know.
I was out very early this morning with puppy Stan and could hear the song of the sea in the darkness as we walked around our usual block.
Back home, I read a post by Malin, one of my favourite bloggers. It was about water, ripples and life.
All in an instant, I felt compelled to run down to the Promenade and capture the waves, even though I knew that one of Tramore’s greatest sunrises wasn’t shaping up.
It was a basic need to embrace the energy of the ocean and feel all the elements coming together as the wind and saltiness battered my face.
Here’s how the sea looked in all her nakedness:
Tramore Bay towards Brownstown Head
The dark clouds coming from the South accentuated the whiteness of the waves as they tumbled towards me.
Tramore Bay towards the Metal Man
Life is all about fluctuations and, even on this overcast morning, there was a definite promise of hope and colour.
Heavenly Blue
Seasounds at Fanore, Co. Clare
February always brings me to love poetry and this is a poem that I hold very dear.
If, at your desk, you push aside your work,
Take down a book, turn to this verse,
and read that I kneel here, pressing
my ear where on your chest the muscles
arch as great books part, in seagull curves,
bridging the seasounds of your heart,
and that your hands run through my hair,
draw the wayward mass to strands
as flat as scarlet silk-thread bookmarks,
and stroke my cheeks as if smoothing
back the tissue leaves from chilly,
plated pages, and pull me near
to read my eyes alone, then you shall see,
silvered and monochrome, yourself,
sitting at your desk, taking down a book,
turning to this verse, and then, my love,
you shall not know which one of us is reading,
now, which is writing, and which written.
Kate Clanchy
(Source: Staying Alive, edited by Neil Astley, 2002: Bloodaxe Books).
Perhaps you’d care to tell me about your favourite love poem/s.
Do you think that grown-up children retain or cast off the fact of their place in the family order?
I got to thinking about this today when I was looking at some old photographs of our family. I’m the youngest of three and I must say I still tend to see myself as ‘the baby’ in lots of ways.
The Three of Us
Photo: Frank Tubridy
I’ve no concept of what it would be like to be the eldest or in the middle or indeed one of a large family.
Given that we have just one ‘child,’ I’ve come to learn a fair bit about ‘only’ children.
When I say about feeling like the eternal ‘baby,’ I find that quite reassuring and like the security of knowing that the others are there ‘looking out’ for me. I also think that being the youngest may have been a factor in the closeness of my relationship with my parents as I was the last to fly the nest and was an ‘only’ child for quite a few years while the other two were away at school and college.
I’d love to hear your perspectives on this.
