Warblers, Andy Warhol and the beautiful art of land

Tiny warbler in the fennel

Small flocks of warblers have invaded the herb garden and I've taken a big shine to them. I think this one is a Chiff-chaff but as ever I am open to correction by my twitcher friends. 

This summer there are fewer butterflies and insects but a lot more warblers. My sister was visiting from Sweden and we both remarked on the eery silence and lack of bees buzzing. The buddleia otherwise known as the butterfly bush, has had no takers. Every other year it has been laden with them. 

This week I did a happy dance because one butterfly appeared in the kitchen.

It is probably no coincidence that the land around here has been cleared and fertilised having been a boggy wilderness for years. Although designated as a protected wetland, the local authority did not see any conflict of interest with clearing for "agricultural purposes." This consisted of the removal of a willow wood, a number of acres of boggy wildflower meadows, ditches, hedgerows, and numerous trees. 

Farmers can't be blamed if the relevant authorities fail to educate and monitor how farming should be managed. At this stage our couple of wild acres are an oasis of cover for small animals and birds on this boreen. There are other small farms around here but there won't be any talk of conservation when the younger generations finally inherit them. I suspect instead that all the shiny bulldozers and diggers will be out in force again.

I came across this prophetic wisdom from New York celebrity artist Andy Warhol, and I thought of the vulnerable landscapes of Ireland.

"I think having land and not ruining it is the most beautiful art that anybody could ever want."

Their creations

This morning there is a smorgasbord of administration awaiting me at my desk.

Sipping my last drops of coffee, one foot in the world of strategy and one in a forest of spider's webs, the sparkly raindrops win the toss and the wellies are on.

Galaxies of web threads and universes of morning dewdrops blanket everything. It's only on these moist misty mornings that they are visible. Billions of tiny insects, spiders, crawlies, spreading out from the gorse on the hill to the chair outside the kitchen door. Lattices and spirals of precious mesh.

This time of the year the tree spiders and cellar spiders are each looking for a mate. Inside the house they run out from their usual dark cover, disoriented but determined. Do they have to crawl over everything? Even over me?

Outside I feel more tolerant. Sometimes one scuttles into view, magnified by the lens and I jump a little. Less and less as it happens. They are starting to win me over.

Their clever work, their harmony with the environment, their secret presence. Do they have consciousness of the beauty they create? That's my question as I reluctantly head back to that cluttered desk.....

Is creativity just about putting one foot in front of the other?

 

 

 

 

 

These are just some of my favourite photographic memories from 2011. All of these photographs were taken just 5 minutes from my back door where I observed nature on Foxglove Lane continuing to express itself in ordinary ways. Some times I went out with my camera in a happy mood as the sun was shining or the flowers and bees were plentiful.  Other times I expected nothing and pounded the lane in the grey mist...just hoping to come across a friendly mouse or an interesting insect. On these days little surprises would capture me.....leaves turning golden, seed heads blowing in the wind, ice on dandelion petals and I would come back with a bouncier spring in my step. It was about just doing it.

2011 was a year of bereavement in my own life and I have no doubt that the whole blogging experience and the kindness of strangers mitigated the sadness in different ways. While I was losing someone I was also gaining someone, I found some other part of myself again. An inner world, a more fearless creativity, a sense of seizing the day with more urgency. Recovering from a bereavement seems to be a similar process, it's about getting up in the morning and putting one foot in front of another.

So for 2012 I will continue as before, putting one creative foot in front of the other, not thinking too much about all those ifs and buts, living life for each ordinary and extra-ordinary day as it comes. Is that what creativity is really all about?



Happy New Year dear friends!