In Galway on the Long Walk at the place where the Corrib joins the sea. Big sky, many types of gull and a heron who walks sedately across the road in front of you to wait at a doorway for scraps. It is, it seems, a regular occurrence. Look at it standing patiently, just as still as if it were watching for frogs or fish. It isn't plastic, I swear:
I'm not sure if I find this endearing or disturbing. Herons should surely be birds that are completely wild. The ones we see on the river would never, I'm sure, lower themselves to stand on pavements. On the other hand maybe this is the clever lad or ladess.
Up the track the other morning towards Jones's to pick up some litter. Our road is a favourite for those selfish ignorant people who think others should have to contemplate the detritus from their pathetic lives. So we get bin liners full of plastic bottles, tins, cardboard packaging and so on. Much of what they chuck can be put in the local recycling bins for free. The plastic bags get into the drain and carried down in the rush of winter (and summer) water, catches on briars and branches where the bin liner breaks and distributes its contents liberally all the way down. Or wedges into inaccessible places. This one's been bugging me for a few months:
It was stuck fast so I came prepared with a vicious hooky thing on a pole. Finally got it out. Then up to the next lot. This isn't people coming to places they think nobody inhabits, but our farming neighbour. Bale wrap. It's everywhere. In the hedges and caught in briars beside the road. And on the entry to the forestry up the road from us where we walk the dogs every morning. Do they not see it?
Turn around and you're back to the beauty of the mountains while under your feet is endless crap.
Rant ended. Pretty picture taken from the spot in the pic above.