Sometimes you get lucky.
On a Saturday late in November I made a quick trip to Galway to attend a concert in a friend’s house in the heart of Connemara. Now as readers of this blog will know I love the many moods of Connemara and relished the opportunity to spend a little time there. The weather is not always kind however. You can expect mist on six out of ten days. But if you spend enough time in this surprising country occasionally you are well rewarded.
I had heard reports of snow but had no real expectations. I was not prepared for what awaited me though as I drove a circuitous route in and out of Galway and Mayo between Lough Corrib and Lough Mask.
Near the village of Cong (famous for its association with the Quiet Man, but I will be quiet on that for the moment), I saw snow on the ranges to the west. So of course I headed in that direction along the shore of Lough Mask until I reached the village of Finny. The white shrouded backdrop above the little yellow church were now within reach. These are part of the Sléibhte Mhám Toirc (or the Maumturks). Not so well known as the Twelve Bens, which lie on the other side of the Inagh Valley, they are less rugged but with their brilliant white caps reflecting the sizzling sunlight they were no less spectacular.
As the sun and clouds and rain and mist fought for dominance an amazing winter palette was in full display. Everything contributed. The sky, the hills, the snow, lakes and rivers, stone walls, pastures and paddocks. The snow caps would change from grey to dazzling white and then glow golden orange with the descending sun. The sky was at once black then blue as the storm passed, the hills were orange, brown, red and green. The country sparkled.
I was lucky and happy. To be in such a stunningly beautiful place where a world class vista was around each corner. And so grateful that I could capture some of those fleeting moments with my Canon.
Words are irrelevant.
These are amazing. I wish I could paint.