On a summer afternoon, we met at Nimmo’s Pier in Galway. River Corrib in Claddagh Quay flowed calmly and was a deep blue color. We took bags and litter keepers, which were brought by Tiarnan McCusker – Galway City Environmental Awareness Officer. I had gloves from a few previous coastal clean-up with Wave Makers. We parked our bikes next to the meadow and moved towards blue and green.
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Dominick Street in Galway is bustling with an old-school glow. The chief carries a tray full of eggs from one cafe to another. Beer kegs meditate on the sidewalk in front of a yellow door with a rustic knocker.
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I do not take as many photos as I used to, and I do not have a professional camera, so why take part in a photo competition – I wondered. Well, just to sharpen the lens of the eye, and see the same place from a different perspective – I thought in a few days later, and joined My 5K Perspectives project with my old iPhone.
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I sit down on a stone by the R336 in the Maan Valley. The asphalt is quiet. Along the side of the road, one sheep walks. Thin black legs wobble slightly on the grey rocks. I take a sip of coffee from an orange mug. Brown giants – Maamturk watch me gently. A moment ago I have doubted the sense of being. Now, I contemplate a magical or ordinary fragment that is just happening.
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I dream of the tram in Galway. However one is sometimes sneaking through the narrow streets. It is blue and you can see go virtually. But not only that, because I cut out the tram from turquoise felt and made a small flyer.
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Don’t think, man, what your life might be, otherwise, it wouldn’t be yours.
Czesław Miłosz, The Issa Valley.
Where are you from? – I have heard this question a thousand times in my life. And I always wondered what should I respond: where I come from or where I am currently live? When I lived in Poland, the answer seemed simple, because I was born in this country. Although I landed in the world in Warsaw and after years I moved to Wrocław.
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When I walk along the main thoroughfare of the city of Galway, a huge seagull flies over my head. Then I feel that not only people live in our city. Until yesterday, I had no idea that taking fallen leaves out of the park can destroy the ecosystem. And what exactly the animals in Galway need?
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Has spring left Ireland? It was last seen in Berlin, Wrocław and Aleksandrów Kujawski. In Galway, the spring left its yellow sneakers, I found them lying near the river in wild garlic leaves. They fit in my feet perfectly, so I laced up my long laces and set off in search of my lost spring.
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The morning coffee smells like orange trees in the Doña Elvira square in Seville, although it is mystical gray outside the window. I am sitting on the sofa as on a small tiled bench. Instead of the sounds of water in the fountain, I hear the washing machine. Notebook based on corduroy legs. I can’t turn off poetry because it is my life.
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I have a lot of fears. Some of them are justified, others are completely irrational. My mind promotes all of them. Although spring stretches out its hands to me through the open window, a wall grows in my head.
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