A day of summer

Fragments of clouds are hanging loosely above the world around us. Daylight, just born, permeates the wadded substance with a delicate radiance as the sea is colouring silver a moment later. Soon growing sunlight will take away the veil of the night.

Delicate light

From far away I hear the cuckoo. Bright and distinct is its call in this early morning. Shortly after, the thrush is exhibits its repertoire from high up on the wire. The cattle in the nearby fields awaken slowly and so does the donkey from down the road.

Concert of thrush

Awakening

A summer morning

When the ferry comes around the corner to moor at the new pier, the sun meanwhile has arrived high up in the sky.

Imposing

It is time to start the daily chorus on a day like this;

Eager to be photographed

I see mother donkey and her foal taken out of the field. Mother knows exactly what will happen this morning as her foal does know as well. While his mother stays where she is set down, her offspring goes on tiptoe – so to speak- behind her and off he goes to the road. He nibbles here as he nibbles there, this grass here tastes so much nicer he seems to think. And another step he takes and another one thereafter…
In the meantime, his mother is patiently waiting while the master is harnessing her. Fully concentrated he lovingly puts the bridle on her first and then he carefully attaches the harness onto the beams of a small cart. The only thing left to do is loading the cart now with hay, food and water for the cattle in the fields further away. And of course, the little brave black dog which will not be forgotten, has to jump onto the cart as well. As soon as the master himself jumps on the cart and picks up the reins, her youngster comes back at a trot and joins the party. And off they go!
Mother donkey knows the way as she goes, willing to please her master. Her foal follows the party at his own pace letting the distance become bigger and bigger though until the cart is out of sight then it’s really time to catch up with his mum.
Slowly I see the party moving on merging together with the landscape.

Merging

Slán go fóill,
Elisabeth from Inis Meáin