Depression came down on me like a terrible cloud. I thought it would never lift, but it did
Grief is always harsh and cruel for people left behind after a death. But there is nothing more terrible than losing a child or partner to suicide
An old friend asked if I was ‘still at the writing’. ‘When I can get the ink,’ I said
A cosy evening by the stove lay before me dispatching messages to loved ones penned in my elegant poetic backhand
A poet, a singer and an infant called at my door on election day and ended up staying
I am committed to democracy as an art form, but the election didn’t interest me in the slightest
‘He drinks too much. But what else can he do? He lives alone’
The General, who was in with a broken leg, seemed surprisingly compassionate
I take angels very seriously, having met two in my life
Christmastime is a journey through the darkness for lots of people
‘I love this man. I love his golden locks’: my friend’s love for Donald Trump comes at a price
The General admires that Trump can still climb up into the cabin of a truck. But then Trump doesn’t drink
I went to the cinema to see Small Things Like These. By the time I emerged I had concluded the film was crap
The fact is the film was beautiful, earnest, poetic and sublime. But that’s not what I saw in the moment
A house visit from a bee in autumn felt like a harbinger of something mystical. And I wasn’t even drinking
It’s impossible for me not to feel some affinity with bees and birds and a sense of belonging in the natural world I live in
Michael Harding: As I left the graveyard, I reflected on what November does to the soul
I was thinking of a forgotten soldier who fought in the first World War recently as I walked around the place where my own family members are buried
‘She has no one to mind only herself’: The husband tossed a phrase in the air as lethal as a missile
Words can wound, like the father who says he’s disappointed with the child
I see my old friend on Facebook. I stare at his page but I don’t say hello
Monk from Tibet planted yew tree in garden, which has been more effective means of staying in touch
An ode to the country tradesmen, never as ruthless as solicitors or doctors about payment
Michael Harding: That may sound sentimental but I have lived my life in rural Ireland and never known it to be otherwise
I had picked the only week this year when Ireland was enjoying good sunshine to take a package holiday
I sulked on my balcony, thinking of all the surfers that might be clogging the beaches of Donegal
I always liked Enniskillen. It was the same as Cavan only different in an Alice in Wonderland kind of way
My mother once told me women marching in white were Orangewomen, making me fear there was something deeper I could not see
I was wary of the Kneecap film, but the tiocfaidh-ár-lá sex scene clinched it for me
From the chaos of the Troubles, the movie constructs a story of hope and tenderness, proving there’s more to life than land