Flow of Time – SOCIAL BRIDGE ~ Jean Tubridy connecting with you from Ireland

In-Betweenness

There was space in my life today so I seized the chance to take what may be my last walk around the beach in Tramore for 2015. It was overcast, misty, windy and wet but I loved every single step of it.

Silvery Shimmers on Tramore Bay, Co. Waterford.

There was a real sense of in-betweenness about the walk ~ these last days before a whole new year opens up in front of us.

I couldn’t but think of the old year leaving the stage when as I watched this gull taking flight:

And this man trudging homeward in the soft sand down by the end of the beach was yet another symbol of the departing year:

It was round by the Backstrand that I got a sense of the new corners and undulations that lie ahead:

But all the while, there were gems of the sea shore to keep me firmly grounded in the present moment:

More than anything, the old railway sleepers that are so much a part of the Back Strand in Tramore made me think of both continuity and change as they gleamed in the dull light:

What or where are YOUR symbols of the in-betweenness of the old year and beginning of the new?

Sunsetting

One of the things I most associate with November is what I think of as sunsetting with son, Harry, at the seaside. It’s something we’ve been doing together since he was a toddler.

When he was five or six, I had no concept whatever of a time when he would be twenty and driving me from beach to beach to make the very most of day’s end.

We had a glorious few hours this evening soaking in the delicious colours as they unfolded. We played around taking photographs and here’s a glimpse of a couple we took:

Memory-Making on Tramore Beach, Co. Waterford (Jean)

Day’s End at Garrarus Beach, Co. Waterford (Harry)

Shared time is a curious thing and I wonder to what extent either H or I will remember the intensity of this evening in years to come.

Old Haunts

Today has been a busy day and one on which I spent time in Clonmel, Co. Tipperary. Clonmel is a bustling town and a place which was ‘home’ for eight years of my life ~ years when I was studying and working in Dublin but travelling back and forth to see my parents and new found friends.

On my way home this evening, I stopped off on an old bridge, Sir Thomas’ Bridge, which is about two miles outside the town and one which was the half-way point for many a walk. As I watched the River Suir flowing swiftly along, I couldn’t but think of all the ups, downs, currents, floods, ripples and waves that have unfolded since I last stood there in the mid-1980s.