Connemara Colour And Scene

“I killed my ex lovers
and buried to my memories’ grave.
It is January
And I am tired of being brave.”
― Arzum Uzun

Not only is January a month for hibernation, I also think it’s often one for hikes and adventures. The weather is undesirable at best but theres something pretty gorgeous about being out on the bog when the heavy clouds descend.  They hang low in front of us, just above the earth creating a kind of freshly wet, somewhat eerie atmosphere. The air is thick with the smell of the grasses, heather and wild flowers. Breath in and fill your lungs with its fresh, clean consistency.

The sun does make an appearance of course, lighting up all the colours and textures of the wild flowers and grasses. It makes me think of dry, warm summer days spent in the exact same spot and the changes in colour of this landscape. In the moments of sunshine, this place looks so lovely I want to loose some layers but the bitter cold snaps at my nose reminding me of the winter cold.

We walk for awhile, climb, chat and laugh; both photographing the environment. The little dog disappears into the growth, she is camouflaged to her surroundings here, it’s time to play ‘wild dog’ for awhile. So many smells in this little wonderland for her nose as well as jumping into the bog water and splashing about in this thick brown mud!

There’s nothing here, just us. Just us and our cameras. No cars, no noise. Except perhaps the far off sound of cows mooing and rustling in the fields. Later, at the wind turbines, all we hear is the woosh of propeller blades as they cut through the air like knives and the buzz of electricity from their sturdy bases.

This is where I bury my memories grave and I’m tired of being brave. This place I keep coming back to. Season after season, year after year.

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