The Thing About Beauty

I write this post looking out on moody skies, raging waves and howling winds. Yes, I’ve well and truly landed on the North Coast of Northern Ireland.

The weather, as expected, has been a little challenging at times with 3 Winter storms passing over (or close to) our home base. Still, in a way, and as I’ve said a number of times over on my photography blog, I love being at the edge of weather systems. There is something so wonderful, so pure and so enthralling as storms roll in and then pass out the other side. To feel the sheer force of nature passing over you. Makes you feel so small when pitted against the might of mother nature. In my opinion, just the way it should be.


The conditions just before our very first #ParkRun

Over the past few weeks we have been spending our time acquainting ourselves with the area. Despite only travelling along 40 miles of coastline I’m already a little bit in love with the place. The Light. The Remoteness. The Energy. The Quietness.

More alive than I’ve felt in a very long time

As I mentioned in the previous post there were a number of reasons for this move, not least time to allow us both to focus on some of the individual personal issues we have been facing. Of course it’s very early days but already I feel just that little bit more energised. Just that little bit more alive.

Thar Be Gold ...

Looks like #StormHenry may have dropped a pot of gold at Barrys ……

I stood on the edge of Ballintoy Harbour the other morning waiting, as I often do, for conditions to come together. Sunrise breaking to the east. Long dark clouds to the west being blown towards me by the wind. Waves breaching the harbour defences. Gulls playing in the wind. Not another soul around. Despite being well wrapped up for the conditions I could still feel the biting cold against my face. Every so often sea spray would blow upwards and cover me in a cold wet mist. The tips of my fingers numb. The cold penetrating deep into my lungs with every breath I inhaled.

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It’s the source of all true art and science.
He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead, his eyes are closed.”

Albert Einstein (1879 – 1955)


It was in that very moment, as I surveyed the scene in front of me, that I realised a single tear had dislodged itself from my left eye and was now trickling down my cheek. Then another. And another. The place had me. I stood there rapt in awe. Mother nature providing me with a glimpse of her beauty. I realised there and then, windswept and shivering that I wanted more. More of what this beautiful and intriguing planet has to offer. The landscapes. The wildlife. The people. The stories.

wind - 1

The Path to Recovery 

I realized as I stood there, not sat at home living someone else’s story through websites and blogs, a habit I had become far too familiar with, nor in front of a warm fire supping a cold beer, will I find happiness. Will I find inspiration. Will I find peace.

It will only be as I personally gaze on the mysterious that I can hope to take steps to recovery. Perhaps those first tentative steps have already been taken.


One thought on “The Thing About Beauty

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