Environment

Ireland, Here We Come!

/ Pam Goode / 8 Comments

I fly to Ireland on Monday.

Wait … Let me readjust that note … I FLY TO IRELAND ON MONDAY!!!

It’s not my first trip there, and in fact I’m on my TENTH visit now … because I just can’t get enough. And guess what? I’m 100% as excited as I was on the first trip.

As you can tell, Ireland will always have my heart.

And — oh yeah — we’re staying in a castle. A real-life, bells and whistles Castle. Seriously. And meals are included.

And it’s not just a Castle — aside from the monumental reality there — but a castle and quite a few other perks, and yes, I’m all atwitter and with good reason. Add in 200 acres of woodlands, and ohhh how that makes me swoon. Oh, and they feed us — and not just “food”, but a range of locally sourced delicacies like Spanish tapas, traditional Irish meals, Italian fire-cooked pizza, and vegetarian options. I won’t go hungry.

So back to those perks — We’ll have a class on Falconry (which would NEVER have occurred to me on my own), a Micro Mosaic Workshop with the fabulous and renowned Irish artist Olive Stack, a Group Collaboration on a Land-Art piece, traditional Irish music and story-telling, PLUS off-site excursions focusing on day-trips with Irish historian Ger Greaney to explore ancient Celtic sites, a stone circle, holy well, faery ring, and historic ruins; a full day in Listowel for exploring, shopping and exploring; and a day in beautiful Dingle to see artisan studios, galleries, ancient buildings, the Blasket Center, which preserves and honors the memories of the unique community that lived on the very remote Blasket Islands until their evacuation in 1953, and (of course) a bit of shopping.

FYI, we have TWO Spaces Available for Ireland (women only). We have a room with two twin beds that can be made into a King with a bathroom en suite, and two queen rooms with a hall bathroom. Our flights leave Monday, May 9 and return Sunday, May 16. Flights are not included. Let us know if you’d like details, and SEE YOU SOON!!!

Windblown

/ Pam Goode / 10 Comments

I’m not sure there are terms to adequately describe the commingling of nature against nature.

The sand dune isn’t particularly large, but I was able to duck down enough to obscure the sea for this photo. I’m usually all about the ocean and her cycles, but this particular tree made me catch my breath. She’s hanging on for dear life, and still she couldn’t be more beautiful.

The lives we live — so fluid and so cross-hatched with a large serving of both agony and endless beauty.

Image by Pam Goode, Pawleys Island, SC, 2023

Just a Walk in the Park

/ Pam Goode / 4 Comments

Today was one of those splendid days that pops up when it really shouldn’t. It’s still chilly here, though there are a few in shorts and tee shirt, and yours truly in a surprising redistribution of the ubiquitous puffy coat. Yes it’s 55 degrees in Ireland today, and though that wouldn’t really be “cold” at home, in Ireland it comes complete with the cool (read frigid) air that follows us everywhere.

We took the long walk by the River Feale, the banks filled with flowers and the ever present fanciful gurgle of water, and then headed to the Garden of Europe. The gardens are beautiful and becoming more so, and I particularly love the surrounding forest of trees and flowers.

Left to Right and Top to Bottom: Trees and flowers along the River Feale; Tufted plants; Laura taking a path to the water; Yellows and purples; “Wrap your arms around me”; Gorgeous setting in the Garden of Europe; Fabulous pebble mosaic created by Kathleen Doody of Canada, a former Olive Stack Residency recipient; Path through the Fairy Woods; Holocaust Memorial.

Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland, Day 23

Dingle Bells!

/ Pam Goode / 7 Comments

I’m just back from two and a half days in and around beautiful Dingle, Ireland and surroundings, and I regret to say that there’s no way I can show you everything. I’ll start out with several of our first stops and will try to keep up with my favorites a few at a time.

I never quite realized that there’s only one way to get to Dingle unless you happen to be driving a large truck or bus. All these years I suspected that my co-travelers were having fun torturing me, but apparently not. So yes, we did the Connor Pass, which is either miraculously gorgeous or head-spinningly dangerous, depending on your tolerance for screaming. The road is long and indeed winding, and the fog! Thick as thieves!

One of the highest mountain passes in Ireland, the path is winding and narrow, and the height is 410 meters (or 1345.13 feet) about sea level. With sheer drops and some roads too narrow for two cars to pass (they’re forced to back up and let one move forward at a time), a lot of people consider it great fun. Whether you love it or hate it, it’s absolutely a standout experience.

Closer to ground level, the sea is everywhere, and much closer to my comfort zone.

Below, you’ll see some of my favorites from Day 1.

Enjoy!

Left to Right and Top to Bottom:

1-3 are images from the Connor Pass.

The last six photos are from a beautiful and very secluded beach. Isn’t nature incredible?????


Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland, Day 18

A Walk Along Bromore Cliffs, Part 1

/ Pam Goode / 6 Comments

Yesterday we had a long, blissful walk along the Bromore Cliffs near Ballybunion. I can’t really tell you how these voluptuously sculpted cliffs have affected me.

The 180 foot undulating cliffs are magic.

They are life, light, and lichen, striated at angles that show the tumultuous heaves of the earth.

They are water, both calm and screaming, and breath, both soft and harsh against the sandy shore.

They are tiny flowers seemingly too delicate to fight for light and space, and yet they thrive.

They are hope and bliss and longing and celebration and dancing like a hurricane.

They are peace and hope and joy.

They are every one of us.

Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, County Kerry, Ireland.

Of Narwhals and Blobfish

/ Pam Goode / 4 Comments

Nature — What in the name of HUH???? can you do with it?

The title alone leaves you skeptical, right? Maybe you don’t even want to look. But how can you not?

And hey, I’m all about the info share.

The narwhal is a medium-ish … fish…? Well no, it’s a whale. Not a big whale, which kind makes the name “whale” not quite fit, and in truth it actually doesn’t much look like a whale at all … but they call it one. Following along in the huh? category, it claims a giant protrusion where its smiling face should be, and lives year-round in the very cold places. Very. Cold.

Considered a “toothed whale”, it manages to stand out from all the other toothed whales because, um, it doesn’t have any teeth.

Well that’s not entirely true — the males do have one (you heard that right). One tooth. What do you do with one tooth? And this one tooth grows straight out of his upper left jaw for a whopping 10 feet. Do they really get to call it a tooth? Try hauling that to the dentist for a check-up.

And it’s no baby tooth, either. Babies, by order, have to be cute. This one has a counterclockwise spiralized sword sticking lopsidedly out of the narwhal’s jaw.

Not sexy enough for you? How about this? The old Norse prefix “Nar” means “corpse” and “hval” means “whale”, so basically we’re talking about a “corpse whale.” If that’s not off-putting enough for you, apparently the “corpse whale” refers to the skin color of a drowned sailor. Sigh.

On the flip side, these babes are among the deepest diving marine mammals, able to dive 5,905 feet or just hang out at around 2,600 feet. Now that’s some pressure! They also swim while sleeping, play with their offspring, and communicate long distance by producing ghostly squealing, whistling, and high-pitched clicks.

So yeah, I’m pretty cool with the Narwhal. Very cool twisty fencing foil, otherwise known as a tooth. Props, and lots of them.

The Blobfish, on the other hand, is a very nuanced type of cool — in other words, you have to really, really, really open up to ugly in order to hug one.

Firstly, he’s under 12 inches long. Basically, he’s prey.

Secondly, he’s already known as “The World’s Ugliest Animal”, so it’s no real surprise that he lives 2,000 – 4,000 feet below the surface. With no skeleton. And no muscle. Um, hello? Did everyone forget me down here?

This babe lives off the coast of Australia, and the pressure at his home depth is up to 120 times higher than it is at the surface. Submarine territory. “Do Not Try This at Home.”

But there’s a reason for his blobbiness. Says Henry Reich of Minute Physics: “Unlike most other fish, the ones that live in these depths don’t have gas-filled cavities like swim bladders that would collapse under the extreme pressure. In fact, super-deepwater fish often have minimal skeletons and jelly-like flesh, because the only way to combat the extreme pressure of deep water is to have water as your structural support.” Now I’m beginning to like him.

So why is the world so hard on the blobfish? Because if you thrust me 4,000 feet below the water my organs would be crushed into oblivion and I’d turn into some sort of paste. Meanwhile the blobfish would just look like …. well … a blob.

So cheers to all those beings out there who stick out in a crowd, go their own way, and still manage to feed and fuel the earth.

Birds and Words

/ Pam Goode / 2 Comments

Today I got out early enough for a bit of a breeze and so many birds, The birds are a gift to my own ever-tenuous ability to hear, as well as a sort of much needed cosmic validation that stretches between us. I’m still here and you’re still here, and some knowing of that life spark passes between us.

When I walk, the words flow, quite unlike the way they sit, box-like, arms crossed and eyes shut tight to truth, when I’m still. I often invite them quite graciously to join me at the table, but they know my tricks. And more, they know the cage has to rattle for truth to escape.

So I use my legs for the rattling. They say exercise saves lives. I say that much of that rebirth springs from the ground and heads straight to the page.

Birds in Tree Crop