Some more frosty vistas from rural Ireland this past Winter. Taken during the dreamy golden hour the wildflowers full of reindeer moss and bog grasses like little licks of flames ablaze against the bluish blankets of cushy snow.
Some further throwback photos from my trip back home to the emerald Isle last Winter. I remember when I took these photos, it was during a couple of crisp evenings when the golden hour sunset lit up the glistening frost and reflected the warm slitted cloud formations.
I still have a plethora of images gathered from my excursions around rural Ireland from this past Winter. I never got tired of capturing the frosty landscapes and meanders of ice circulating around the rich peat. This adventure in particular was after a large dumping of snow that froze over, I remember it distinctively because I almost completely lost a boot in the mud… I somehow managed to press record as I was free falling gracefully into one of the earthy trenches and have the resulting gasps and swears words of my clumsy ass in mid motion. I won’t share that here and shall leave it your imagination.
The weather here has turned typical and Irish, grey, misty and mild and with it my mood taking a hit. I am just glad I made the most of the frosty golden hour walks and revelled in the gleams of these photos, showing crystallised ice refracting the sunlight like diamonds and sprouting chiselled white coconut flakes.
Icy Escapades; exploring rural Ireland is a frosty delight. White disk bubble explosions mimicking silver dollar plants being trapped among island like greenery underneath the ice, like little moons illuminating the inhabitants of these nebulas as they hibernate.
Milky swirls interrupted by sprouting spiky brambles that loop in and out of the ice like a dragons tail frozen in time or a serpent sinking below the undergrowth along with the limbs of arachnids reaching for something no longer.
It was lovely and frosty here today, the ground well into the afternoon still having uncracked puddles with white speckly paint strokes and air bubbles frozen in time as icy metallic spirals meander around pebbles.
I continued along the frozen puddles peppered along the backroad until the road disappeared into the vegetation and I where I started to get lost in the forestry ferns, sitka spuces’s and speckled birch trees, where the light of the crisp golden hour evening lit the land in a brilliant gold.