Isn't it strange that when you revisit a place that you like, you get different associations and feelings?
Just like when you watch your favourite movie over and over again and each time you notice something that you never noticed before.
I'm talking about the Burren, the place that never fails to evoke strong impressions on me. In fact it has left such an impact that this is my 3rd post about it in a span of 9 years.
When I think about desolation, I think of the state of being deserted, the state that draws a blank, the state of loneliness. It is like the aftermath of something catastrophic. A post Covid 19 scenario. An apocalypse.
And the silence. It is the peace in the silence that strikes me. Nothing but grikes and clints that stretch for miles.
Himself asked me why I wanted to see the Poulnabrone or the Portal Tomb again as I had seen it so many times before.
Every logical question deserves an illogical answer.
My answer is because I have changed from the last time I saw it but the Poulnabrone has not.
That is the reason why I keep taking photos of places I have been before.
There's this interplay of transience and permanence.
I would like to think that I am transient. And when I look at the Poulnabrone that has withstood the onslaught of time, that is permanence.
But then again, by a sudden change of wind or an unprecedented climatic disaster, the Poulnabrone that I saw today could also be gone tomorrow, flattened and broken into smithereens.
The beautiful thing is even in this karst landscape, a flower grows. That is the last thing anyone would expect. That is what I call hope. And it is absolutely beautiful.
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