September 3rd

hooded crows scatter

as distant shotgun echoes

a puff of smoke drifts

They were scaring birds away from the runway at Dublin airport.

September 2nd

the mud finally

relents when the baking sun

toughens the earth skin

The sun shone, it was glorious. A great final day to the festival.

September 1st

One by one they come

swift sorties tight to the hedge

insect gathering

So I’m at Electric Picnic, a great music festival, but I’m inspired by birds again. Swifts loading up for their massive migration to Africa by acrobatically flying against the hedges, elegant twists and turns in mid air to catch unknowing flies or spiders floating on gossamer.

August 31st

Seven swans flying

a silent glide across the grey

the sky a still pool

I was on the bus going from the airport into central Dublin and I saw the unusual sight of seven swans flying. So powerful yet effortless they drove through the sky. It made me think of the Children of Lir, enchanted by their adopted mother, cursed to spend nine hundred years as swans. When their curse was lifted and they became human again, no one they knew was still alive, the world had changed. Such a sad tale.

In the evening I heard this song live. I felt introspective and reflective. I was listening to this album around the time my mum died.

August 30th

agitated wait

bloodshot pacing, night walking

depart in darkness

 

I should be in bed. Early early flight in the morning. Off to Ireland for Electric Picnic.