Just one more time?

I had a lovely bunch of spring crocuses ready for this week's blog, then on Monday morning we woke up to snow.

We were on our way to the National Concert Hall. The Gloaming a group of musical wizards led by Martin Hayes, were about to play to a packed house. It's like Irish traditional music, jazz and trance blended into a new genre, uniquely theirs. 

When Martin, the King of the Faeries takes off with this wild fiddle playing, the rest of them follow, barely hanging onto his coat-tails.  And then the audience is swept away with them, until we are all circling the lofty hall soaring through these dramatic riffs, in the flow of the old stories from the time before time. 

Even their opening piece of about 15 minutes long, got a standing ovation.....

Then afterwards, fan that I am didn't I run into Martin standing beside the cloakroom just as I collected my coat, twas still sleeting and snowing a bit. He held out his hand and I told him about my favourite quote of his "knowing the wisdom of what's all around you and playing that" and how it relates to contemplative photography. (I now KNOW he has a set of gossamer wings hidden under those clothes) 

They play in Australia and New Zealand next week.  Never, ever pass up a chance to spend an evening with them.....

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Relentlessly snowy Berlin

I'm just back from a relentlessly snowy Berlin. 10 times the size of Paris with an ever growing and developing creative community. Iconic monuments, grungy clubs and cafes, graffiti on everything, and always reminders of the Cold War.

They may have tried to kill off diversity in the 1930's but today Berlin is one of most multi-cultural and open cities in Europe. It is also a city that can never afford to forget.

The young artists who make it their home don't carry the baggage of the past. They eat Lamb Koftas and African Yams on alternate nights. They dance in the snow. They weave their way through the streets without a consciousness of the gaping holes left by the absent wall.

In the 1970s I went through Checkpoint Charlie from west to east, barely understanding it's significance. Another country another border. The Guard checked under the van with a torch on mirrored wheels. He glared at my passport thinking I might be an imperialist American. Irischen!!! Gut! Smiles and relief all round. We spent a day in East Berlin trying to fritter away the 10 dollars they insisted we exchange. No matter how many beers with sausages and potatoes we tried to consume, it was an impossible task.

Then we were staying in the Western sector near Tiergarten, in the home of exiled Chilean diplomats. Today I stood in that same spot, a winter wonderland and remembered the grim grey streets and confusion of those days. A brown legged man in an orange singlet and little more jogged past me on the snowy path. Running with a cold breeze in his face and the warm sensation of a free man in his heart and I felt like cheering for Berlin, for the Germans and for all of those who lived to tell the tale.........some things do change.....




See a connected piece about the bright city lights calling, today on Vision and Verb

The Mare's breakfast!

When would he arrive with breakfast? The snow had settled as it rarely ever does. The hours were passing and the icy grass was none too appetising.

The mare heard the engine before the foal even realised that at last he was on his way.

Bale after bale of warm hay, thrown over the hedge. Steam rose from it as they both dived in.

Now the mug of coffee and the crunchy toast for me. All of us lucky to have our much needed breakfast on this beautiful but freezing cold morning beside the lake.

Then across the field, the sounds of happy munching........

Snowy dawn!

As the evening draws in, the snow settles and I ponder the long trip I have to make that next day. The forecast suggests it will linger long enough for a dawn ramble before I head off.

Just as the sun rises I am out on the snowy lane. One set of tyre tracks tell me that my neighbour has already made it up the hill. This is the spot where I sailed off into the ditch a few years ago in similar conditions.

The sun highlights the few warm spots and the mare and her growing foal are sheltering with their backs to the ditch, lapping up those first rays. A young girl wanders into the field no doubt plotting a day off from school.

A simple change to the lane and the Comeraghs, but one that makes for a giddy stroll and a decision to postpone my long drive to the midlands for a day or two....