or Up….

Sometimes, all it takes is looking up.

We spend so much time staring at screens that we forget the sky is always putting on a show. Clouds drifting, shifting, catching light in ways that change by the second.

For photographers, clouds are quiet magic. They turn ordinary skies into stories that can be soft, dramatic, moody, or full of light. Looking up with a lens reminds us to slow down, to see beauty in the in between moments.

Next time you’re outside, lift your eyes. Snap a photo. Let the sky surprise you.

Dont Forget to Look Down

There’s something quietly powerful about walking with your eyes cast downward.

In a world that often tells us to look up, to dream big, to chase the light, sometimes, beauty waits below, nestled in the shadows.

This image was taken on an ordinary dog walk. Nothing planned, no intention of making art. Just a moment. The grass around was dry and tangled, the light was fading, and the air was still. But then this small, intricate bloom appeared, seemingly glowing in the gloom. A fitting name Queen Anne's lace (Daucus carota)…

I found this old gravestone dated 1770. The inscription reads:

“Here lies the body of Simon… who died Jan’y 1770 aged 46 years (I think). Pray for his Soul.”

This quiet marker tells a powerful story. In an age before modern medicine, living to 46 was a full life. Simple, hand-carved, and weathered by time, this stone shows how death was once deeply spiritual, personal, and woven into everyday life. No grand memorials, just a plea for remembrance.

There's something profoundly humbling about standing before a marker like this. It’s a glimpse into a world long gone. Simon, whose full story may never be known, lived and died more than 250 years ago. Yet here he lies, resting quietly beneath the’ gravestone, as if nature itself is cradling his memory.

It makes you reflect on legacy, memory, and the stories that are left behind or forgotten. In a time when everything is instantly documented and shared, this stone speaks to the quiet permanence of history, etched in rock and rooted in the earth.

Next time you're out in nature, keep your eyes open. You might just find a whisper of the past beneath your feet.

Just a few steps away a tree root is exposed with a dying leaf resti, before the wind takes it…

A Horse called Man

Tucked away in the soft green edges of Trim, I wandered past a small horse sanctuary. The evening was still, with only the low rustle of the trees and the distant sound of hooves. A single horse grazed lazily across the field, seemingly indifferent to my presence until he wasn’t… He approached me slowly, not in haste or fear, but with the calm curiosity only animal wanting to know if I had a carrot or two. As he neared, I raised my lens, quietly, not wanting to interrupt the moment. He stopped just a few feet away and met my eyes—then the click of the shutter. One frame. One soulful eye.

As I continued exploring, the weather began to shift. Clouds rolled in, thick and deliberate, casting shadows over the fields and the ancient ruins that stood watch over the landscape.

The contrast was striking, dark silhouettes of broken stone against a sky quickly turning charcoal. There was a stillness to it all. Shapes formed in the contrast between light and dark, arches, towers, jagged edges softened by time. I stood there, letting the camera expose for the bright sky and felt more intrigued by the feeling than the frame when processed would be quite unusual. Look for the watchers on the wall… winter is coming.

Here we go…

This afternoon, I took the dog out for a walk around Trim and brought my camera along. The weather was mild, with soft clouds hanging overhead and the sun breaking through now and then, casting a gentle light across the town. We strolled along the river and through the old Church Ruins, and I took the chance to capture some photos of whatever seemed to catch my eye. River was full of energy, tugging at the lead while I paused to frame shots, it’s something he is very good at, but eventually settled into the pace. It was a peaceful lunchtime walk — just the two of us, a camera, and a town that always has something worth noticing.