Grief is all pervasive but it can lack drama. It is more likely to manifest these days as a cotton wool brain rather than the well of tears. Work proves to be a challenge and my thinking is fuzzy and lists remain uncompleted.
Leaving the burrow is like being cast out into a cold winter world and sometimes my tired old bones want to cosy up there for just a few more hours, or even days......
For the past 9 out of 10 days I have been on the road and while the distraction and connections were welcome, at times the grief sat like a heavy weight on my shoulders. As the days went on I decided to pack the camera with the brief case every morning and hoped for better.
The last few days I got lucky and was able to steal moments and photograph places I have been observing and admiring for years. I have been enjoying the unique bronchial shape of each tree, the changing light on the newly ploughed fields, the ice patches on higher ground and as I jumped in and out of the car, my energy started to shift too.
Somewhere on the road between Tullow and Carlow I came across this drift of snowdrops, "harbinger of Spring" on a ditch opposite a small cottage. These bravest, smallest flowers reminded me of a quote I carry in my head, the one that reminds me to have "the courage to be happy."
