Robert's Ramblings

Below the boardwalk the sand is little bit cooler.

Below the boardwalk the sun is a little more bearable.

Below the boardwalk the shadows are a little less harsh.

Ablaze in the not so soft glow of twilight, Henley Beach Jetty is none of the above when camera turns evening into day.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Below The Boardwalk', 30s f/11 ISO160 15mm

Above Moll's Gap along the Ring of Kerry is a secret path leading up into the hills.

Certainly this way is known to the goats and sheep that roam these places but perhaps there is another race familiar with the hidden green dells and high craggy ridges.

Known as the 'Tuatha de Danan', there were once a people who were proud rulers of Eiru until they were defeated by the Milesians, banished into the hidden underground places of Ireland and henceforth called the 'Aes sidhe', 'the people of the mound'. Thus began the rule of the Celts.

To this day legend has it that 'the people of the mound' will make mischief or friendship or grief on any unsuspecting person wandering off the common path. Like little gods they rule these places and you enter and leave at their pleasure.

I guess I got lucky, ... or did I?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Land of Small Gods', 1/125 f/18 ISO100 14mm

The only thing we generally see different from night to night when we look to the moon is its own shadow progressing across its face.

That familiar pock marked disk of craters and ridges never changes. As for the 'dark side of the moon', it is the Moon's dark side day of our tidal side's night.

So what have tides to do with the dark side of the moon? Gravitational times long ago locked the Moon and Earth into an embrace of unrequited affection with the moon forever staring at its hot and cold, day and night neighbor.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Unrequited Affection', 1/160 f/9 ISO100 600mm

No matter where I have traveled, as limited as that might be, the one common food theme that seems always present is bread.

Just like any other expression of our creativity it is not surprising to see beautiful creations of our imagination continually manifest in bread. In crusty whites or seeded whole grains. As loafs or toroids, cobs or buns there seem no end to the ways we are able to express our daily bread.

Perhaps this is what manner from heaven is really all about, our own creations!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Our Daily Bread', 1/200s f/4.5 ISO160 200mm

Just under two kilometers north east of Skellig Michael is the smaller of the Skelligs, 'Liittle Skellig'. What struck me as the biggest difference between the two is that here on Little Skellig the sea birds ruled.

Tens of thousands of ganets and other migratory birds clings to every usable surface of this barren rocky crag. Maybe Skellig Michael was also once such a haven and possibly eclipsing its little brother but human settlement has most like driven them away.

As we circumnavigated this city of birds the smell and sounds overwhelmed making as happy in our eventual retreat from the sensory onslaught.

I'm sure one or two of the citiy's guards were sent to escort us clear only to circle back again as we made our was back to Portmagee.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'City of the Birds', 1/8000s f/7.1 ISO100 17mm

A long time ago in a land far far away people found refuge in a sacred haven from the rest of the world.

For centuries the monks of Skellig Michael, so named after Saint Micheal the Archangel , endured or reveled here sharing company with the seabirds and their faith.

Today Skellig Michael has lost none of its mysticism becoming the focal point of a different kind of monk from a long time ago and a galaxy far far away.

May the force of Skellig be with you.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Skellig Michael', 1/1600s f/7.1 ISO100 200mm

These two beautiful gannets patrolling the waters off Little Skellig easily lived up to their reputation of Ireland’s most majestic seabird.

For a a few moments they flew in to hold perfect formation alongside our ungainly craft. With wings beating in unison and the and effortlessly glide they showed us up a thousand times over.

The gannet colony on Little Skellig has nearly 30,000 breading pairs making it the largest in all of Ireland. I wonder if any like Star Wars?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Skellig Patrol', 2s f/18 ISO320 14mm

Busu and the Damask Drum was yet another Edinburgh Fringe performance inspired by classic Japanese theater combining ideas from two distinct and important plays from Japan's cultural history.

Exploring these two stories has given me glimpse into a world so alien to mine and yet so comfortingly similar. The 'Damask Drum' in particular explores unrequited love through a tragic ghost story, exploring the moral implications and perhaps the responsibilities of both protagonists.

Now I am wishing I had actually seen the performance rather than this brief moment on the street.

Next year?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Busu & The Damask Drum', 1/160s f/3.2 ISO100 100mm

Wait a while after that sun has set on yet another day.

Wait a while and watch the colours change as the minutes pass.

Wait a while as the fading light retreats in pursuit of a westward sun.

Wait a while as blue turns to gold turns to grey.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Blue Turns to Gold Turns To Grey', 2s f/18 ISO320 14mm

If I were either an industrial designer or a biologist specializing in mycology I think I'd be drawn to beer taps.

Once they were just utilitarian mechanical pumps drawing on the bartender's strength to 'pull' ale from kegs. Now however these bright iconic taps sporting their manufacturer's logos seem to sprout from bars like mushrooms.

Just like the the fungal mycelium under the ground, under bars lies a complex network of nylon tubes leading off to hidden kegs, cylinders of carbon-dioxide gas and refrigeration systems.

Mushrooms and beer taps; I wonder who else has noticed the uncanny similarity. Now if only one or two would pop up on our back lawn!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Mushrooms and Beertaps', 1/100s f/3.2 ISO320 200mm

I've not been down to the beach much this winter. A combination of business, of travel and of lack of a beach habit had taken its toll resulting in, well, just not getting back to the beach.

Today I finally broke the fast, headed down to the beach at the end of my street and captured the evening spectacle.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Look at The Moon', 1/4s f/16 ISO160 14mm

'Look at the moon' you said as we headed out for the evening.

As the full moon rises above the horizon seeming larger than normal it's almost impossible to not notices its ancient glowing face. I've lost count of the times I've heard those words.

Later that evening, high in the night's sky, the moon seems almost hidden as city street lights mask its ethereal glow.

Almost forgotten, I remembered to look directly above me and there she was. 'Look at me' said the moon!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Look at The Moon', 1/400s f/11 ISO160 600mm

In the beautiful green Irish landscape moments of sunshine need to savored and cherished for the way they lift both the land and the spirit.

Even the locals know to take a moment from their busy day to bask in the the sun's ephemeral glow.

In a land made so beautifully green by rain and gloomy skies, the chance to bask in the sunshine must never be ignored.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Basking In Sunshine', 1/2500s f/2.8 ISO100 200mm

I love watching the old puck violently purged over the grounds bin and the basket refilled with a fresh mound of ground coffee.

I love watching that twist of the of the wrist as the tamper is pressed then quickly withdrawn from a perfectly flat earthy brown disk.

I love watching those mice tails of espresso emerge from the portafilter, a sure sign the barrister knows their craft.

So much enjoyment and I've not yet taken my first sip. I love to watch my coffee being made.

Photo: Robert Rath, 'I Love To Watch', 1/40s f/2.8 ISO2500 200mm