Sometimes I sit and think, sometimes I just sit like now on my favourite rock in the hills above the Atlantic. The sun is shining and the air is warm, Donegal at its loveliest as summer slips into autumn, the sun on the glistening waves, still fascinating even when the wind howls, when there’s thunder and lightning, the earth shakes and the sound echoes, the rumble just rolls on and on.

And, on a clear night, the stars are awesome.

A flock of birds fly over two feet above my head and their wing noise reminds me of the Red Arrows. Where are they going in such a hurry?

Forty shades of green, purple heather, cow parsley and clover. The few bees are lazy at this time of year; they’ve been so busy, now it’s time to smell the fading dog roses in the hedgerow.

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And above it all is the sky, give it time and you’ll see every cloud in the book, great heavenly........

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