Home, part 1.

This place has moulded me in many ways…

Home, away, and attachments to place.

That contentment could be found by just being in a beloved place was news to me

What the club means to me…

There’s a sense of belonging when I attend a game, of knowing and being known, and though I’ve come and gone (and gone again) that feeling hasn’t faded.

And in the dark of night…

The city dweller might think this absoluteness of silence and darkness intimidating or boring, but I am transfixed.

A streak of small farmer radicalism; how Roscommon voted then and now.

I can’t see how anyone aspiring to get elected here can do it without tapping into the farming vote.

Sunset, and the photos I wanted to show off.

A spectacular sunset transforms the landscape for a few minutes, allowing us to look anew at every day’s view.

All the heritage sites in Roscommon I’ve never visited, and rectifying that in 2020.

Maybe if we go and visit these places, we might get a bit better at selling Roscommon – not just to tourists, but to ourselves too

The bog’s special place in the Irish imagination.

The bog has a special position in the Irish imagination; an otherworldly place that we avoid like the plague as children but Instagram the living daylights out of in adulthood.

That time the eighth amendment got repealed.

Whatever the result would be the following day, the day of women having fingers wagged at them was gone. And I was glad of that.