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When the light goes out over my story, I hesitate to get up and make a coffee in an orange mug but I do it and go into the darkness. The wipers can not keep up with the ocean that pours in front of my eyes. I feel dizzy in my head for thirty minutes. And finally, I see that sheep also like to hide under a rock.
There is cold in the car and I do not want to go anywhere, but I wrest out like a newborn into a graphite-green air. Peat grass smells of relief, and the sunless horizon becomes my home.
The rain washes my face, curls my hair, drips into my shoes and touches my toes when I cross the bridge. Wild ferns in dark green guipure lace and a ram that raises his velvet head from a vegetarian dinner welcome me on the road. I stop and stare at my company, the boulders in the soft grass are silent next to the wordy stream. I turn off the vision of nicer weather.
Sometimes the light just disappears, but we still can discover something on this journey.
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This is so moving. I especially love the line: “And finally, I see that sheep also like to hide under a rock.” Your terrain is envious. Just curious, I always feel you are alone (emotionally and physically) in places like this, yet someone else must take your photo, right? Unless you have one with a timer? As a single person, I am curious. I don’t do selfies, and I rarely have recent photos of myself. You don’t need to answer—sometimes I am too literal 🙂
Thank you, Sharon! Your question seems far-reaching. Usually in Connemara, I am with my husband, and he takes me photos. But, often I feel alone inside, and I feel like every detail of Connemara flow in my arteries. After the trip, this feeling still pierces me then I write a text or poem, sometimes long after the visit. In the mountain, we climb kind of alone, my husband like to be alone in the mountains, too. But there are always sheep very close. My loneliness is me, especially when I am close to nature, but I have often this feeling. Sometimes I travel alone. I used to be completely alone in the Tatra mountains 🙂