by helenmcnulty | Jul 23, 2021 | Audio Recording, Photography, Poetry
Helen McNulty · Pebble by helen mcnulty Pebble fallen from a mountainor born in the firey belly of the earthonce black or maybe blue?beaten and bashed by wavesfor millennia its fractured edgessuccumbed to the ocean’s tumultuous moodsnow here under my footwarm,...
by helenmcnulty | Apr 16, 2021 | Audio Books, Audio Recording, Photography, Poetry, Writing
Helen McNulty · Oh to be compost by helen...
by helenmcnulty | Mar 12, 2021 | Photography, Poetry, Writing, Writing about the nature
The Bridge… In summer, daisies poke out of cracks in the walls.It was made in the late 1600s to help the horses across the road on their way to Dublin from the mines in Glenmalure and Glendalough. The Avonmore River dashes through it in the winter and flows like...
by helenmcnulty | Mar 5, 2021 | A Whirly Drift, Photography, Writing, Writing about the nature
On the last day of the year where the day and night are the same length, the sun is somehow warmer and breathes heavier. The plants on Monday set out big flowers for the day and the mushrooms in the woods exposed trusses that you didn’t have to walk a mile to...
by helenmcnulty | Mar 5, 2021 | Gel Prints Available of Photographs, Photography, Poetry, Writing, Writing about Covid, Writing About Northern Ireland
Hidden away in a farm house in the middle of no where. Where no thing happens but frost on moss and sun rises and sun sets and little girl games and twinkling rushes. Isn’t it lucky and grand to be here and hiding. When the vibe beyond the hilly, cold wilderness...
by helenmcnulty | Oct 20, 2020 | Gel Prints Available of Photographs, Photography, Poetry, Writing, Writing About Northern Ireland
I come from there, but not from the country. From a wee town in the north of a Lakeland, the furthest town from the lakes. Some of my family live in the quiet of the countryside now. Up there is a different light. There is a dark blue-greenish charcoal grey tinge to...
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