Evening light at Tra Mhor

I caught the last of the evening light at Tra Mhor this week. This is one of the biggest beaches, as it’s name indicates at Aillebrack in Ballyconneely, just south of Clifden. It was after 8.00pm when I arrived to find an empty beach lit by the low evening light..perfect!

I love the way the light seems to creep over the sand and the finger like shapes that the clouds have made in this image (above and below)

 

Photograph of Tra Mhor

 

 

 

 

There was a bank of yellow flowers at the edge of the strand where I took some photos (below). Is it meadow vetchling?

 

Bank of flowers at Tra Mhor

 

 

 

 

Here’s a few close up’s. There had been a recent rain shower and you can just the rain drops clinging to the petals.

 

Yellow plant at Tra Mhor

 

 

 

 

Yellow plant at Tra Mhor

 

 

 

 

I took the next few photos from the other side of the bank.

 

Photo of Tra Mhor

 

 

 

 

I love this combination of yellow and blue together. We may not be having the hot Summer that we would like but all is forgiven at moments like these here at Tra Mhor..

 

Photo of Tra Mhor

White Sand Blue Sky

I spent an afternoon at Aillebrack beach last week. This area is just south of Clifden and it boasts a string of beautiful beaches, many of which are unoccupied even at this time of year. It was one of those unexpected sunny days after a bout of wet weather and so I seized the moment with my daughters and headed for the sea. This was what awaited us..

 

Aillebrack beach

 

 

 

 

and looking out to sea..

 

The sea at Aillebrack beach

 

 

 

 

We were pleased to have the beach to ourselves, save for some seagulls who decided to join us when we produced our picnic. Here’s a picture of them swooping down to the shore.

 

Seagulls at Aillebrack beach

 

 

 

 

This one seems to be gauging the weight of this piece of bread!

 

Seagull at Aillebrack beach

 

 

 

 

We are so lucky to have these beaches on our doorstep, I believe that they must be among the most beautiful in the world. These last few pictures are of the clouds which made dramatic rippled patterns across the clear blue of the sky. I hope to be able to use some of what I’ve seen here in my paintings soon..

 

Aillebrack beach

 

 

 

 

Skies at Aillebrack beach

 

 

 

 

Skies at Aillebrack beach

A Forest of Green

This tiny but prolific plant grows right on the shore at Candoolin in Errislannan. This is a small rocky beach, just south of Clifden which is accessible from the roadside. It is obviously thriving here in this environment and has spread over the rocks like a miniature forest with just stone and seaweed for companions.

 

Photograph of rock plant at Errislannan beach

 

 

 

Here it is again, a little closer up. The perfection of each plant and each leaf is a marvel.

 

Photograph of seashore plant at Errislannan

 

 

 

And closer still..

 

Close up of seashore plant at Errislannan

 

 

 

The repetition of the shapes taken from above give the image a shimmering effect. One last photo (below). I love the vividness and vibrancy of this green. I need your help to identify this plant. Is it a liverwort? I’d love to hear from you if you know.

 

Close up of plant at Errislannan

 

 

Return to Omey Island

I returned to Omey Island with G last week when the rare opportunity of an afternoon off without the kids presented itself! It was a glorious sunny day and we decided to walk the perimeter of the Island. The tide was well out when we arrived so we walked across the strand and made a right turn along the grassy edges. We met a small beach which we walked along before we had to climb up a bank to continue. This is the view from there across the sound to Claddaghduff (below).

 

Photograph of Sea and Sound taken from Omey

 

 

 

 

Once we reached the top of the grassy mound, the view opened up to take in the rolling meadows and the sea as it wanders right out to the line of the horizon. I was immediately struck by the fields of flowers, the vividness of these tiny yellow plants ( Bird’s-foot Trefoil? ) and the sweetness of their scent in the breeze. It was a heady Summery rush and I had to suppress the urge go no further and just lie down and soak it all in! This is one of my favourite photographs (below) because it contains these perfect hues of blue, yellow and green which are my lasting memory of this walk.

 

Photograph of Omey Island

 

 

 

 

Here’s the view heading West and looking out towards Cruagh Island and the Atlantic (below).

 

Photograph of Omey Island looking out towards the Atlantic ocean

 

 

 

 

As we moved around the Western side of the Island we came across another beautiful beach (below). Looking back at this photo, it seems almost too perfect to have been real and it felt like that, a kind of earthly garden of Eden.

 

Photograph of beach on Omey Island

 

 

 

 

I took this last photo on the Southern side of the Island. The grassy slopes fall away to this outcrop of flat rock which sinks downwards towards a wide sandy beach (below).

 

Photograph of a beach on Omey Island

 

 

 

 

Photo of beach at Omey Island

 

 

 

 

We quickened our pace after I took this photo as thoughts of the incoming tide took over! In fact we had plenty of time. We resolved to check the times for the tides the next time and return to explore the centre of the Island.

Beach Flowers

 

The sun shone late one evening last week when I went for a walk along a beach in Errislannan with my family. This is a beautiful peninsula just south of Clifden. I took some pictures and we collected driftwood and paddled in the water.  Unexpectedly, I found a treasure of flowers growing in the area. This is the view looking back down the beach from the furthermost point.

 

Photograph of Beach at Erislannan by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

There is no sand here, just stones all rounded by the tidal movements of the sea.

 

Photograph of stones by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

 

I stopped to photograph this vivid blue plant on a bank along the beach. I am no botanist so I welcome advice on the naming of any of these! Is this one a Scabious?

 

Photograph of Blue Flower by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

Here it is again from on top. I love its starlike shape and its jewel blue colours.

 

Second Photograph of Blue Flower

 

 

 

I almost missed this next one. There were just two little plants on their own right at the edge of the shore. I’m going out on a limb here to suggest that this might be a wild Orchid..

 

Photograph of Wild Orchid?

 

 

 

The next photo is of some Thrift, my favourite plant of all. I am amazed how it manages to grow so prolifically in the most barren of places, it seems to sustain itself from rock alone.

 

Photograph of Thrift by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

I was surprised by how much it had turned, nearly all the clumps of flowers were a dry honey brown colour (below). I like the line of them still, their tall broad stems and their bobbles of crispy petals.

 

Photograph of Thrift by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

Here’s one that’s just beginning to fade (below).

 

Photograph of Thrift by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

This last picture is of a single Thrift flower still in full bloom. There were only a handful of these.

 

Photograph of Thrift by Deborah Watkins

Fields of Cotton

The last time I wrote about Bog Cotton it was May and there were just a few scattered strands. I stopped to take these photographs outside Oughterard last week because the cotton is in full bloom now. It may not be a field of cotton as sung by Credence Clearwater Revival (!) but this tiny Irish plant is a beautiful sight at this time of year.

 

Bog with cotton near Oughterard

 

 

 

These fields are carefully managed and the cotton thrives on the newly cut bog surface. My feet sink slightly into the spongy top layer as I take my picutres..

 

Photograph of Bog cotton near Oughterard

 

 

 

I love the contrast between the dark chestnut colours of the bog and the soft greens and pinks of the grasses. The bog cotton enhances the scene like sprinkles of tiny sugar shapes. There is something delicate about the appearance of the bog here in Summer that is almost magical.

In a few months, this will change again. The cotton will disappear and the colours of the heath will deepen and take on a fiery quality and a completely different mood.

 

Photograph of Oughterard Bog

 

My Life as a Potter

I have mentioned my work as a potter in this blog and so I’ve attempted to illustrate my potting life more clearly here in order to show how my pots and paintings might relate to each other.

I learnt about Raku while studying ceramics in N.C.A.D.  I also spent a few months in the south of France as a student with a group of artists who specialised in this technique. Raku is an ancient Eastern method of firing clay whereby the glazed bisque pots are heated up very quickly, removed from the kiln while hot with long tongs and reduced in bins of sawdust. The latter half of the process is in fact a Western adaptation which was pioneered by a group of American potters in the 1960’s. This dramatic process is very exciting and produces lustrous metallic glazes with crackled surfaces. I used the technique for my degree show in 1991. Here are some examples of the things I was making then.

 

Photograph of raku pot by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

 

Raku pot by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

These pots were thrown on the wheel and altered from the inside while still wet. I remember seeing an ancient Roman pot that had been decorated by finger marks made from the inside and this was a revelation to me. I became interested in the notion of clay as a skin with some kind of bone-like structure behind it. I drew lots of animal skeletons in the Natural History Museum and I also looked at plants and seed pods for inspiration.

 

Photograph of raku pot by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

These little tea bowls (below) were an homage to the ancient Japenese form of the technique.

 

Raku tea bowls by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

The next few images are of me practising raku in Dublin in the 1990’s. The first one shows the kiln loaded with some pots and ready for firing.

 

Photograph of kiln loaded with pots and ready for firing

 

 

 

This is me taking a pot out of the kiln with a long pole. I also used a tongs but I was able to hook some shapes from the inside with this rod, which avoided marking the outside of the piece.

 

Photograph of Deborah removing molten pot from the kiln

 

 

 

 

Close up of pot being removed from the kiln

 

 

 

The next photograph shows the reduction process in action – I always worked with another person for safety. I used dustbins filled with sawdust and wood shavings which ignited when the molten piece came in to contact with them. More sawdust was poured on before the bin was sealed with a lid and some wet paper. The pots were allowed  to smoke for a couple of hours before they were taken out and cleaned. The reduction takes place because the chamber is starved of oxygen and so the oxides are drawn out from the metal oxides present in the glaze. This is what produces the metallic effects – copper oxide produces a copper glaze here where it would produce a green glaze in an atmosphere with oxygen present.

 

Photograph of the reduction process

 

 

 

I set up my own pottery studio in Clifden in 1997 and made raku pots for just over three years. I learnt how to work on my own and I had a shed and a small outdoor space as well as a workshop where I prepared the clay and made large vessels on the potters wheel.

I made purer shapes – spheres and ovoids with narrow openings. I used copper and cobalt oxides in my glazes to produce the blues, greens and metallics that I liked. Here are some examples below.

 

Photograph of raku sphere by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

Photo of eggs shaped raku pots by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

The next pair (below) are simple figurative pots – parent and child.

 

Raku pots by Deborah Watkins

 

 

 

 

Here is a close-up of the glazed surface (below).  I still love these rich lustrous colours as you can see in some of my paintings. I identify them with the precious and the magical which is an association I like to make with nature in my paintings.

 

Close-up of raku pot by Deborah Watkins

Omey Strand

Omey Island is a tidal island near Claddaghduff, north of Clifden. I drove there on a fine evening recently when the tide was out and I could walk across the strand. It is hardly noticeable as an island from the mainland until you get down to the beach. This is the view (below) looking across to Omey from the edge of Claddaghduff village.

 

Photograph of Omey Strand

 

 

It is possible to drive across the beach to the island at low tide and there are road signs along the way to guide you! It’s a strange sight in the middle of the strand and you have to remind yourself that the sea can cover a car here at high tide.

 

Photograph of road sign on Omey Strand

 

This is the view out to sea a little further along (below). The brightness of the open sky and glistening sand was stunning. I had the feeling I was in a desert and that I was absorbing a tonic sized portion of vitamin D that would last me a month.

I wanted to freeze the moment so that I could conjure it up again in my mind later and perhaps on some dark November evening when I will need to be reminded of such things.

 

Photograph of Omey Strand

 

 

This is the same view from the edge of Omey which is flanked by an idyllic stretch of golden sand and soft cushiony grass.

 

Photograph of Omey Strand from the Island

 

 

I returned back across to Claddaghduff making a mental note that I should allow myself more time on the next trip. Omey island has much to offer in terms of its natural beauty and its archaeological discoveries.

On my return, I took some photographs of the beach. There were some recent pony tracks in the sand (below).

 

Photograph of pony tracks in the sand

 

 

These next images reminded me that this place would be under water again in a couple of hours.

 

Photograph of Seaweed on  Omey Strand

 

 

 

Photograph of Seaweed on Omey Strand

Summer Evening at Streamstown Graveyard

I went for a drive yesterday evening towards Claddagduff, north of Clifden and stopped at this graveyard on the way. It is situated on the side of a hill beside the road and looking out to sea at the mouth of Streamstown Bay. You can enter the graveyard through sturdy metal gates or by stepping over a traditional step style in the wall (below) as I chose to do.

 

Photograph of Graveyard entrance

 

 

This is the view on the other side of the wall (below). This graveyard is still in use and is an interesting mixture of ancient, weather beaten stone remnants and modern headstones.

 

Photograph of Streamstown Graveyard

 

 

These next two photos show the view moving West as the bay wanders out to the Atlantic. The smooth edges of this grey headstone (below) stand erect among the scattered stone blocks whose carved linkage with the past ( if there once was any? ) has long since been eroded.

 

Photograph of Streamstown Bay

 

 

Photograph of Streamstown Bay

 

 

As the evening drew on, the shadows grew longer (below). I read what I could of the modern stones and found familiar local names – King, Coyne and Casey.

 

Photograph of shadows in graveyard

 

 

Photograph of Graves at Streamstown

 

 

I left wondering if the beauty of a place such as this makes any difference. I think that perhaps it does – as a better final prospect for the living, compared with some anonymous square field and for those left behind who might draw some kind of peace from such a setting

 

Summer’s here!

We have been enjoying some exceptionally fine weather here in Connemara. Temperatures reached the mid 20’s and higher last week which is rare for this (or any?) time of year here.

One sign of Summer’s arrival is the appearance of the Summer wild flowers and they seem (to me) to have sprung over night – clover, buttercups, pink grass heads and marguerites, my favourite of all.
Here’s a photo of a clover head, such a lovely colour – somewhere between crimson, pink and purple.

 

Photo of a Clover

 

 

I love the feathery summer grasses, the smell of them, the rustling sound of them and when you look closely, their delicate colours. Here’s an example and below that a couple of seed heads.

 

Photo of pink seeding grass

 

 

Photo of a seed head

 

 

Photo 2 of a seed head

 

 

Finally, I’ve included some pictures of the Marguerite, one of my all time favourite wild flowers. Their name makes them human – my daughters affectionately call them ‘Big Daisies’. There is a lovely field of these flowers beside the local National school but unfortunately for me, behind a high fence ( photo below taken through the fence ). I resisted an urge to climb in to the field, deciding not to risk injury to myself or my dignity and the possibility of creating a spectacle in view of my daughter’s teachers!

 

Photo of a field of flowers

 

 

These close ups (below) were taken a few metres away at the roadside which is dotted with these perfect flowers at the moment. Long live Summer!

 

Photo of Martguerites on the roadside

 

 

Photo of a Marguerite