The Monthly Salon: May
The merry merry month
Summer is here and everything is growing. Between Mayday and the solstice, we have six or seven weeks of frantic flourishing here in the Irish west. This is what part of the land looks like this week, complete with the rusting ancient bicycle we found when we moved in, which has now been absorbed into the tree growing over it.
The vision of the greening land always fills me with joy. The swallows are back, the nights are still and the world still works. Given the dark content of the last couple of essays, it’s good to go outside and get some perspective.
This is the stone circle we built in our front garden, which is currently about to be enveloped in grass, clover, primrose and whatever else decides to make itself known. Soon enough this place will become overwhelming and I will panic about having to cut back half of the grass. But for now we’re in the perfect hanging moment: the one between nature’s silence and nature’s inability to shut up. I love it.
My final three essays are coming along more slowly than I would have liked. They have been delayed by some events I haven’t been able to turn down. Tomorrow I’ll be in Romania, talking to a group of Orthodox theologians and priests about the Machine. I never thought I’d find myself writing a sentence like that, but life is full of surprises. Then in ten days time I’ll be in London, at two separate speaking events hosted by Unherd. They’re both now sold out, but you can watch them online if you’re so inclined.
It’s good to get out, but all of this has got in the way of my writing, which always makes me itch. But normal service will be resumed soon. I aim to have my last essay written by the end of next month.
In the meantime, here is your monthly opportunity as a community of readers to talk about anything you’d like. Please fire away. I’ll be back soon.