Other forgotten things

Besides the standing stones and megalithic tombs I saw today - eerie echoes of people half forgotten about and misremembered - I've forgotten to tell you about some things here.

The house that I'm staying at uses peat in the range downstairs. Peat smells wonderful - just the right kind of earthy home smell that makes a good welcome into the warmth. Although, the places where they scrape it off the surface of the bogs look like rubbish tips with piles of different coloured bags full of peat sitting at the edge of the rows.

These little piles of plastic are a lot like the horribly coloured and terribly out of place holiday homes that are being built around this area. They have butter-coloured fenced walls and the kind of soul-less similarity is heartbreaking around here. They just don't fit, the stone walls nearby will crumble to the edge of an unyeilding edifice to comfort and security built of pastel colours and no sensibility of the area it sits in.

And the sea creates masses of foam, the parts where the waves crash near the rocks look like milk. As they curl the greens and blues and purples of the waves turn to white, and the spray hangs in the air, taking its gentle pleasure in falling back into the sea.