Poetry – Heron

A solitary heron,
silver-grey, his stature great,
resides within the river village,
old man hunched and scouring.

Stunning riverside scene at Carrick-on-Suir, complete with heron.

Walking by the River

I love walking by the river in Carrick-on-Suir. The water always looks so fresh and cool. Sometimes it’s possible to distinguish black flickers of fish in the depths. Swans parade like floating snowdrops and on a sunny day the sky presses, only offering a bare trace of breeze.

Swallow, swooping over water.

Sunshine and Swallows after Editing #Writetip

Editing can be a tricky process. In fact, I feel I’ve only grasped the concept of editing over the last couple of years. Before that, I used to pick, delicately at my writing. These days, I’m more of a hacker.

Heron in the weir, at Cahir.

A Walk on the Cahir Side #Nature

Ducklings, cygnets on the verge of becoming swans, adult swans – these were the sights that met my eyes as I arrived in Cahir, County Tipperary, last Friday. The cygnets were like mousy adolescents – unsure of themselves in the company of swans, but brave enough to chase a duckling or two! Hubs and I couldn’t resist a riverside stroll.