04 May 2011


Microclimates are fascinating, beguiling, surprising, thought provoking.

Colonies of alien life, dropped into the unsuspecting midst of ambient ecologies.

A disused cement block building sits only fifty metres from the blasting storms and vicious winds which come whipping in off the Irish Sea in a lash of spay.

All around it, hectares of tough, hardy, minimalist, scrubby vegetation just barely clings to a marginal salt resistant existence.

In the minimal windbreak shelter which it affords, an island of comparatively softer inland weeds flourishes.

Among them, this lush stand of nettles: like an insular expatriate community, oblivious to the realities of life about them in a foreign land.

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