This post is also available in: polski (Polish)
When I was a small I was asking “What is life, mom?”.
You see life is me and you, this bird, that tree and flower – she was answering to me.from the song of Dżem “Naive questions”.
Summer came. Connemara has dressed in juicy green and now looks like a land of hobbits. Fragrant, soft, blissful.
The road is a charming tunnel of trees and then waves like a graphite ribbon between thrills.
I stop in the valley, there are Early-purple Orchids smells of freedom. I jump into the grass, sheep bleat at my fingertips.
Above me the mountain. Tufts of sedge under the feet and grey boulders warmed by the sun – have been here for centuries. I counted ten different types of mosses on their bellies. One moss is like a dark brown fur, another has a red-copper hue, it is also silver one which is harsh and look as if frozen in lava.
I jump over the lustrous stream and land on a wet heath. Next I climb on the cliff ledges, grabbing tufted hair grass with my hands.
I glance down, where a little sheep runs to her mother on sphagnum carpets. Her bleating touches my heart. Finally I sit under the sky on the craggy peak.
Lake Corrib and all shades of happiness shine on the horizon.
All photos by @Maciek Doczyk. Wszelkie prawa zastrzeżone.
dziesięć rodzajów mchów mnie powaliło 🙂
Też byłam zadziwiona, jest nawet bordowy i beżowy. 🙂
Uwielbiam mech, mnie też rozwaliło 10 rodzajów 🙂 W ogóle jaki fajny blog, ciesze się, że tu trafiłam.
Dziękuję, Joanno i bardzo się cieszę! Mi również podoba się Twój blog i zamierzam zaglądać do “atramentu” 🙂 Pozdrowienia serdeczne!