I almost walked straight past this clump of yellow without looking down. The Mirador de Guise y Ayose pulls everyone’s eyes outward, across the rumpled red hills, all the way to the hazy Atlantic but the real show was happening at my feet, where a burst of wild mustard had punched up through the volcanic…

I spent a few minutes watching this white-tailed eagle do absolutely nothing, and it was riveting. It sat on its branch at Fota Wildlife Park like it owned the place which, fair enough, when you’re the largest bird of prey in Ireland, you probably do. The dark backdrop did me a favour here, throwing all…

I was visiting Fota Wildlife Park with Henry recently when he spotted these two in an enclosure and I genuinely cannot get over how small a little grebe chick is. It’s basically a wet pom-pom with an attitude. The adult, all chestnut throat and businesslike beak, was patrolling the surface and the chick paddled over,…

As I climbed up the rocks from the beach I spotted a lone fisherman in the distance. He hadn’t caught anything yet but in the bright sunshine I caught a nice silhouette. It was Santa Cruz in Portugal, and a lovely day to be beside the sea.

Dermot Henry @ Cyprus Avenue, Cork. I saw Dermot Henry perform at the Wavelength Rooftop Bar, attached to Cyprus Avenue, in Cork, last night. Folk music isn’t my usual cup of tea but Dermot’s got a great voice and judging by comments on his YouTube videos, a passionate following. The support singer was great too….

Foz do Lizandro is one of those beaches where the Atlantic doesn’t let you forget it’s the Atlantic. Even on a bright spring day, the surf comes in heavy and the water is properly cold. I caught this little scene from up the beach: mum framing the wave on her phone, dad watching, holding a…

The siamang barely moved while I framed the shot. Two long arms hooked around the timber, and then a bundle of jet-black fur with two enormous eyes peering up. I’d wandered over to Fota’s gibbon island half-expecting the usual whooping chorus, but instead caught this quieter scene: mum holding her ground in a patch of…

Two herons, two very different moods. The first one had clambered up into the bare branches like it owned the place, scruffy chest plumes blowing about and that sharp yellow eye scanning the park below. The second was posing in profile on the netting above one of the enclosures, side-lit by late sun that caught…

I scrambled out onto the rocks at Santa Cruz in Portugal taking photos of various views and then climbed up to a rock platform where I was greeted with this view in front of me. I had an ND filter, but no proper tripod, only a small “plate tripod” that just about did its job…

I had a fifth-row seat for Paul Young at St. Luke’s last night. It was sold out, so it was worth getting in early for the “From No Parlez to The Secret Of Association” tour. The clue was in the billing: this was pitched as intimate conversation plus acoustic versions, not a greatest-hits run-through. Judging…

Window seats earn their keep on flights like this one. We were somewhere north of Lisbon, climbing north towards Ireland, when the sun decided to put on a show off the right-hand side of the aircraft. The horizon went from a deep, almost bruised red, up through that signature aviation orange, and finally settled into…

I didn’t know there were bison at Fota Wildlife Park, but near the end of my walk there with Henry we stopped at a field containing these large beasts! I wonder if they were overheating in their winter coats in the warm April sunshine, but I suspect the cold wind that blew through at intervals…