Debonair in Donegal

This is the Debonair.

It is my blissfully quiet, peaceful retreat on St. John’s Point outside of Dunkineely.

Dusk is settling down upon us all following a lovely, rare blue sky of an afternoon.

I walked in the morning, before the sun arrived, through a misty soft day, over the rolling hills,

past cattle

and caves hidden beneath the cliffs.

Here are Gloria the Goat and friend, enjoying an evening snack as they bed in for the night.

Mommy Dearest and her two female foals come racing to me in the hope of getting a handout as they shelter in. I disappoint, though I give them each a good scratch behind the ears.

The hens, save these two adventurers, are brooding quietly in their stone cottage, safe from the foxes and weasels who would love a warm bite.

Eocha rests quietly in front of the caravan, happy not to be rolling on her wheels for four days in a row.

This little sheltered nook is a place to watch the waves roll in

the light change again and again
and again, while listening to sea birds calling out to their mates as they head inland.

The grass is green and rippling.

The head of the peninsula, beckoning.

Soon I will light the turf and cozy down deep for another peaceful night’s sleep.

What a gift is this life.

Blessed Be.