Tradition
My view of “tradition” was one of staleness. A barrier to progress, it was ignorant people resisting change and prolonging unnecessary conflicts.
And as I moved through the world in later years, I also recognised tradition as the preservation of fire.
While important to burn off the branches that no longer support fresh growth, it’s important not to chop away at the trunk of foundation.
And what a foundation is the beautiful land of Ireland. Lush, green and full of intrigue, there is a genesis quality about it. Landscapes that inspire poets and religious devotees. Stone structures in varying states of decay telling stories about Druids and ancient Irish Kings. The small, isolated seemingly insignificant Little Rock in the Atlantic is cherished by many.
No one seems to have a beef with the Irish. Likeable, friendly, warm and funny, they are welcomed for their desire for a good time…for the“craic” they bring.
It’s joked that its people are its greatest export, of which I am one. It was 5 years since my last visit. 13 years since I saw a golden temperate autumn…a time long enough to generate a sense of novelty. Snakes, sunshine and sand were my “new normal”.
It was also a time long enough to build a hunger to hug familiar shoulders and look into familiar eyes on familiar faces
Some faces have gone since my last visit. Some faces are more wrinkled. And some faces are brand spanking new. I loved seeing them all. More faces will come and more will go. But the fire of tradition will always burn strong. Til next time Ireland
Freedom
I was recently asked the question… “what is freedom to you?”. My reply….”the absence of tension”.
As I sit through another airport wait, tension levels raised from a week of overlong business meetings, I’m reflecting on this question again. The life choices I’ve made in the past and where they have me now. Refining new aims with a view toward brighter horizons.
I know I’m not unique in my attraction to “freedom”. “Stress”, whatever that means, is apparently the new epidemic. Warnings of a “mental health” crises. Economic pyramid schemes collapsing resulting in reductions to living standards. Lies to justify the situation coming from supposed shepherds of our social systems.
Posters in my head office bathroom display numbers to call if I’m feeling blue. Which, I’m sure, adorn many of the fluorescent lit, caffeine fuelled corporate prison cells in cities across the world. I can’t help but feel it’s an oafish attempt at being human. Or at worst a sick joke; bosses with a mocking helping hand extended to employees, while at the same time trampling them with unrealistic demands.
But, in a world of smoke and mirrors I know there are things that can be trusted. The whale breaching above the waves. The turtle popping up for air. The bird scouting the shoreline for food. The rumbling pulse of waves on a beach. The intimacy of a lover under a sparkling night sky.
Trust is surety. It is safety. It’s freedom.
Double Island Point - Cooloola Wilderness Area
Boys and their Toys
It all begins with an idea.
I got hold of my first proper zoom lens yesterday. A 100-400 mm second hand Fuji, which opens up new possibilities for my XT5. I wasted no time in getting to Pincushion Island for a shot I’d eyed up before, but couldn’t quite work with the quiver of lenses at the time. I think it worked pretty well.
However, its a heavy bit of machinery at 1.5 kg’s, which can unbalance the camera a bit; when getting back in the car, it slipped out of the bag and smacked onto the concrete. Luckily just a broken screen and the camera is still working. I just have to swallow the fact that my once perfect looking camera now has some personality. Wabi Sabi.