Look out that window … for gawds sake, how could that inspire you to get up and go outside?
Make you want to get up at all?
And I haven’t even thought about the pandem … scrub that …
That’s Ireland for ya … one minute the darling sun of springtime is out there irradating those newly-blossomed tulips in your garden, the next … well, he isn’t …
Up I get anyway, mining for some cheer … the little things, perfectly-done toast dripping with butter and orange marmalade effervescence, decapitating that soft-boiled Vesuvius and dipping a spoon into that yellow liquid goodness — juicy eggs I used call them when I were a lad…
Coffee black and brimming, I sink into the sofa with my cheerful doggy buddies …
Not working, though, is it?
I mean look at Bella beside me, and the usually jolly, upbeat Lily up the way …
Don’t want to know, do they?
Swashing down the last droplets of black gold that is my first coffee of the day, I look down and see that spot of yellow liquid goodness on my jumper …
It’ll come off, won’t it?
C’mon me … I’ve got the power … c’mon Bella and Lily, let’s get up and go out there and find some diamonds in this here wasteland!
Bella?
Lily?
They come quietly, at least, when I harness them and we hit the grey, chill-winded outdoors.
Which path will we take … any one of the usual four we have done a thousand thousand times a thousand already …
I take in the flower bed I have painstakingly cleared and planted against the side wall …
Hmm, promising …
We opt for the fenced-in laneway that leads to the park …
Bella and Lily aren’t so sure …
We press on … I’m the one with the lead …
Of course I have to pick up a few cans and bottles discarded along the enchanted way …
And fume at the ones just out of reach, which I will come back for later …
Don’t let it get to me, don’t let it … onwards and parkwards.
Hold on … is that a gleam of coquettish sun irradiating the corner of yon cloud? …
That’s Ireland for you too … the sun can pop out from behind a surly stratus at any moment … and nip back in again as quick, but hey …
Now I’m sure you know that sensational photograph that frames itself just perfectly before you, you get a little excited as you fumble for your phone camera app, and click! … and it’s a gut-wrenching dud … nothing like it promised to be.
Guess that’s why real photographers have all those lenses and gadgets and things, and learn things about aperture speed and what not…
Full moons are the worst for us camera phone Scorseses, though … big and round and dreamy in that magical inky-blue night sky (no, not Marty, he’s short and round and dreamy)… you magnify as much as is still symmetrical, you hit the button … and holy crap, how did this blurry little light-yellow circle end up in my gallery?
One of these iconic shots arranges itself in front of me now …
Do not feel pity for the scene that spreads before you in the photo I actually ended up with … once upon a time this concrete wasteland was a busy work yard in a galaxy far, far way, otherwise known as the mid-2000s property boom in Ireland, at the height of which, of course, we bought our current house, at a time when ordinary folk were buying and selling houses for prices that would make Bill Gates or Jeff Bezos blanch …
Anyway …. I’m standing there, camera in hand, as the gleams of of a thousand diamonds sparkle across this concrete wasteland … so pretty and entrancing …
I feel like Wordsworth coming across his host of golden daffodils
And look closer, there were even some emeralds …
And now you look and you see … a wasteland with maybe a jaded bit of glinting going on …
Of course I know the diamonds are the supernova explosions of a thousand thousand times a thousand bottles smashed by the poor relations of Bezos and Gates who gather here to toast the pandemic and their tedium …
And those emeralds, well, if a certain beer brand did jewels, they’d be the best jewels in the world, probably …
But for one glittering moment it was quite the sight … honestly!
Diamonds on the wasteland.
EndaStories 
The soul of a poet, you have that. I loved the emeralds, and had to read a bit and think before I realized what they are. I have gotten behind in my reading, and a little behind in my writing (Do you ever have more than one partial post in the hopper waiting for more attention? Or is that only my easily distractible self? ut as I was thinking about how behind I was in reading, I thought of you and hoped I’d see a post from you soon. When this popped up in my email I went right to it and was rewarded for my trouble. Keep “mining for some cheer” friend, there is so much to be said for appreciating every drip of melted butter awash on your toast, or the dippy egg. Blessings, Michele
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Hi Michele. I never have any post ready… It usually starts with a phrase or thought, and then goes off on its own sweet tangent. Nothing to plan a campaign around! 😊Hope you are keeping well
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Lovely, Enda. A little light in our present wasteland.
Sent from my iPhone
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Hi Michael. Thank you kindly
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Coincidentally, two hours ago I swept up pieces of glass on the road in front of my house. I’m pretty sure that was the first time I ever had to do that. See ya! Neil S.
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There goes the hood, maaannn! 😊
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Oh, my fellow picker-upper, It’s the plastic bags in trees that I can’t reach that set me off…
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Bad enough, but the so and sos that go to the trouble of picking up and bagging their dog’s poo — and then firing it into a hedgerow, high up!!!!
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Only you could make something so poetic out of a walk on the waste side. A lovely piece, Enda.
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Hi Clive, hope you’re well. Thanks for reading, and your usual kind words
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You are such the poet today Enda. With your light and emeralds. I read this twice and it has a certain lilt and the imagery is great
Laugh Until It annoys someone. They’ll thank you
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Thanks Mr Oh… I only discovered several of your lovely comments on my posts in my spam/thrash folders when clearing them yesterday. Apologies for the lack of acknowledgement…
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No worries 👍 Just remember I’m a fan
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I call it blogging from the heart, Enda. You sit down and let it all flow, add a few photos and viola, your story. But, heck, you have such a lovely way of telling your stories, even broken glass can be beautiful if captured by a heart story. Bella and Lily remind me of my cats, why bother with going out when you can just take up half the settee. Until a bird dares to enter the garden, then they might lift their heads, or even go and sit on guard at the patio door.
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Hi Anne… Bella is definitely the missing link between cat and dog.. Son capricious and moody, but doggily affectionate… When she chooses to be. Thank you for your lovely words and kind sentiments
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