A little change in the air.

A week of sunlit warmth for Summer to slowly begin to wave goodbye.
Golden patches of sun to be found later in the mornings. Walks with an occasional leaf falling quietly and slowly. Morning and evening surprises of Summer-sounding birds. Window still open, reaching for an extra cardigan in the evenings.

Some new prints from my on-line shop:

You make my branches grow.
Summer is shyly waving goodbye here, but is waving hello on the other side of the world. The cuckoo sings its arrival, meadows bloom and trees come into leaf. The ewe bleats after her lamb and the cow is lowing for her calf.

Star-gazing seat.
Light dims earlier and then starry skies. A low-hanging crescent moon, a sliver of gold nearly tipping the earth. Next weekend is a full moon. Lets sit on this comfy seat and watch for it.

St. Kevin and the Blackbird. (a Seamus Heaney poem)
St Kevin was known as a lover of nature. Legend has it that one day Kevin was praying with his arms outstretched in his cell in Glendalough. His cell was so small that his hands reached out the windows. As he was praying, a blackbird came and nestled in his open hand. The blackbird built a nest and laid her eggs. St. Kevin decided he wouldn't move his arms until the egg had hatched and the chick flown away. 

Julember, Augtober (July acting like September, August being like October).

The darkest nights produce the brightest stars. There is an area in South-western Ireland with skies so dark it has been designated a Dark-Sky Reserve. With the Atlantic Ocean on one side and miles away from any nearby towns on the other, there is very little light pollution. I think it would be wonderful to look up there on a clear night.

The moon on my painting table. I got to touch it (while peeling off masking fluid) ;)

A summer of cloudscapes, leaf rustling breezes and showers. July like September and August like October. A reminder that I live on an island in the north Atlantic Ocean.

Hide and Seek

   

Summer has been playing hide and seek with June for the past few days - until this afternoon. Then the white-grey clouds floated away to let the blue skies appear. Bare arms came out of hiding in cardigan sleeves. Me out in the sunshine, hiding from my painting desk.

The weatherman on the radio says today could be the hottest day of the year so far at 26 degrees celsius. A lady from the painting class I teach promised me last Thursday that a heatwave was on the way. Maybe bare feet will come out of hiding in shoes.

above: a little painting for a little one.

Gooseberries and cabbages

A week of sunshine, sandals, swallows swooping and singing from early morning til late at night.

A red tractor making green stripes in a yellow field. Drying hay, making the air sweet for miles around. Throwing turf, making fingernails brown and hands rough.

A cup of tea with a 93 year old Grand-uncle, sitting out in front of his house on top of the hill. He sent me home with 2 jars of gooseberry jam, courgettes, a head of cabbage and a bundle of rhubarb sticks from his garden. 

Evening in a Summer Garden

Wood pigeons cooing their lullabyes. Robins flying quietly home back into the trees. 
Sounds carry from a neighbour's nearby garden; glasses clinking and laughter. 
Above the wall, old-fashioned, full, pink roses seem to glow in the dim, dusky, half-light of a long Summer twilight.
 A wooden seat for dreaming and enjoying the night time vespers.

She "introduced" me to cloudberries

July sunshine and Morning were smiling to each other this morning and I went out and made a third. Sitting on a wooden bench under the dappled shade of two apple trees. With a coffee. And my camera and a letter to read.  The leafy trees put on a show, thrilling blissfully as the breezes rushed through them.

Above, a painting for a girl who introduced me to cloudberries (they are the little flowers painted around her feet). She is a talented knitter and a tea connoisseur! 

There are 100 islands in Roaringwater Bay

Packing a small rucksack for a weekend trip to the West. Maybe I should pack for Summer and for Winter?

Yesterday: a long, golden evening of Summer sounds. I put my head out my window to eavesdrop on the birds chirping - they sounded full of exciting news. The breeze was making the sunlight dance on the leaves and the leaves to sway on their branches. All around gentle Summer movement.

Today: grey clouds covering the blue sky. Hopefully they will fly away for the weekend and the sun will return for a visit.

A song to go sailing to.

There are 100 islands in Roaringwater Bay and the most southern lighthouse in Ireland.

Flutterby. Like a butterfly.

The summer is only flitting here and there these days. Quick little glimpses. Landing for a few moments and then disappearing away again. Fluttering by like the butterflies.

Scattering and reaching without moving

The sun stays low in the sky these days. Tall trees casting even longer shadows. Across fields and gardens and buildings and roads. To places far from where they are rooted. Touching a corner of a field or garden they could never have dreamt of reaching in their immobility. And the leaves too, gathered up by the wind and scattered far from where they grew. A little travel adventure.

Above, a painting inspired by my almost 93 year old Grand-Uncle. All summer long a blackbird in the apple trees outside his window, where he sits all day, came to sing. He thought maybe it was a bird who had come for breadcrumbs on his bird table the Winter before. He said the Blackbird had repaid him in full.

Dreaming on a sunny Spanish island

Holiday sounds. Waves tumbling on the shore. Wind moving through the palm tree leaves. Scents of hisbiscus flowers and sea soaked breeze.

August, a month with two seasons in it.

The air is cooler and fresher. The sometimes golden sun still echoes Summer but it hangs lower in the sky making the shadows reach further. The big, old oak and sycamore trees cast long shapes across the windy grass. Their leaves are hinting, tinting yellow, red and brown. The swallows are gathering and preparing for their long journey. Gentle reminders of Autumn.