THIRTYARDS

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Notes from an ongoing adventure taken at the pace of the flyfishing coast -Wexford, Ireland.

The timeless waves, bright, sifting, broken glass, Came dazzling around, into the rocks, Came glinting, sifting from the Americas. – S.Heaney

I thought the earth
remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, – M.Oliver

It don’t do you no nevermind to tell nobody nothing. – T.McGuane

A man is never lost at sea. – E.Hemingway

The sea is the sea. The old man is an old man. The boy is a boy and the fish is a fish. The shark are all sharks no better and no worse. All the symbolism that people say is shit. What goes beyond is what you see beyond when you know. – E.Hemingway

Life and death matters, yes. And the question of how to behave in this world, how to go in the face of everything. Time is short and the water is rising. – R.Carver

Early one morning I cast to a grey and cold sea under a low misty sky, the waves breaking super white against the rocks. Held hidden in their petrol clear circular hearts were secret steel fish that I felt were hunting there. I imagined the fish moving fast, low and tight to the bottom invigorated by the crystal water, swimming quickly and tracking together in patterns of efficiency and stealth invisible between… Read More