Connemara again

We’re back from Ireland and getting past the jet lag – though I’m still waking when the sun rises over the Atlantic somewhere a few time zones east of here – but it will be a while before I have all the pictures straightened out. It has taken more work than usual to get them to show something close to what I saw. The Irish landscape is more than pretty. It’s one of those places that seems to have an elusive quality of presence all its own, and it’s been a job to try to bring that out. But here at last is my favorite photo from Connemara. I can’t say what I would have made of the place if we’d visited on a different day, a day when the sun was shining. It turned out to be the only day on the trip that was rainy and grey all day, so the Connemara we saw was rocky and bleak and lush and inviting all at the same time. Both photos – the fog-shrouded hill and the flowers blooming on the edge of the bog – are from Connemara National Park.