Lapwings above, yellows below

Imagine an animated Le Broquy Táin print: now you have in your mind's eye how lapwings look whirling and wheeling through a winter sky, floating on and fighting the fierce wind, descending down to cold wetlands before rising again in drifts and swirls, the sun silvering their white breasts.

The Brent geese, who came from who knows where, looked positively pedestrian beside them.

A bright morning found us on Kilcoole beach today, enjoying the white horses conjured out of the normally calm Irish Sea by a biting westerly wind. For a while we walked in the lee of the buckthorn stands that separate the shore from the railway line and the wetlands behind, but once that protection was gone, the wind blew hard and cold. Still, it was good to be out clearing the cobwebs away and checking what the waves had carried onto the shore. Marvellous too to see the bird life on the wetlands, though without the telescopes and other aids that the keener birdwatchers carried with them, arriving as we left. In the distance the Sugar Loaf and the Wicklow mountains had a dusting of snow. Here on the east coast, we've had nothing like the snow in some other parts of the country, and we've certainly had nothing like they've had on our neighbouring island, where the cold front from Europe met no resistance; in Ireland there's always a bit of a push-back from the Atlantic weather fronts.

White horses and mini-schnauzer on the shore of the Irish Sea 

The stormy seas leave some castaways on the beach -
this crab is larger than the ones we normally see
(I've thrown a glove in for scale)

Buckthorn (and an unidentified umbellifer) separates the shore from the wetlands behind

Winter comes to the hills and the wetlands

Some of the snow earlier in the week iced the yellows of the witch hazel and primulas in the gardens, but in spite of the weather, a bee was out and about, finding very welcome sustenance in the Mahonia blossoms.

Snow comes to the garden: Witch hazel, Hamamelis pallida

Wintry Primula

One of the best reasons to have some Mahonia in your garden

Yellow was a bit of a theme this week and the primula found respite from the weather indoors as I grappled with drawing (and painting, sigh) it for our class on Saturday.

Primula sketch

More Primula - those damn leaves are tricky

To understate it wildly, there's a bit of work to do on the whole drawing and painting thing, but it's very engaging and brings a whole new way of looking at plants I already love. It's a bit like when I first started to edit texts: I'd find myself looking for typos in Everything I read. Now I find myself thinking about Cadmium Yellow Light and Aureoline, about Sap Green with a hint of Lemon Yellow, about Light Red and Ultramarine. The world may not be the same again. Lovely.

Have a good week all.