On Th’Way To Glendalough

Glenmacnass leaps to the valley b’low, her sights upon the Irish Sea…

Canalway Walking

To Portobello.

Choice Joyce-isms.

Backache from moving tables ‘n cèilidhing about for hours amongst the mini-gourds ‘n flow’rs.

Please.

Oops…

To be honest… it was fine.

Relatively cold, this breezesome morning – bracing.

Their wake moves me.

I saw the sunset, seeping low, beyond the estate houses.

We’re citizens alike, subject to rule of cracked ‘n flawed democracy!

Sunhat ‘n crabbing bucket – rock-pool girl! She watches where her sandaled-feet stone-stand.

Cuthbert’s hermitage surrounded: seals slipslide ‘n slumber strandside.

I’m in two minds.

A-shambling through the queue.