A Photographers blog

Welcome

I started this blog in 2011 with the aim of sharing some of my images capturing many of the locations here in Ireland where I live, along with some great places visited on my travels. I very much hope you enjoy the posts you find here, since 2011 this blog has had well over 150,000 visits and 70,000 likes for it's pages and I would like to say a big THANK YOU ! to everyone who has already visited this blog leaving a like or making a comment, both of which are very much appreciated. I look forward to many more posts and also reading all the great blog posts from so many great people in the WordPress community :)

Latest

On Contemplating a Sheep’s Skull ~ Poem by: John Kinsella

the sheeps skull 1
All images taken in the Nier valley, county waterford
Fujifilm X100
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

On Contemplating a Sheep’s Skull

Poem by John Kinsella

A sheep’s Skull aged so much in rain and heat,
broken jawbone and chipped teeth half-
gnaw soil; zippered fuse-mark tracks
back to front, runs through to base
of neck, widening faultline under
stress: final crack close at hand.

Skull I can’t bring myself to move.

White-out red soil unearthed
from hillside fox den and cat haven,
now hideaway for short-beaked echidna
toppling rocks and stones, disrupting
artfulness a spirit might impose,
frisson at seeing counterpoint.

Skull I can’t bring myself to move.

Sometimes avoid the spot to avoid
looking half-hearted into its sole
remaining eye socket; mentally to join
bones strewn downhill, come apart
or torn from mountings years before
arriving with good intentions.

the sheeps skull 2

Skull I can’t bring myself to move.

Not something you can ‘clean up’,
shape of skull is not a measure of all
it contained: weight of light and dark,
scales of sound, vast and varied taste
of all grass eaten from these hills;
slow and steady gnawing at soil.

Skull I can’t bring myself to move.

Neither herbivore nor carnivore,
earth and sky-eater, fire in its shout
or whisper, racing through to leave a bed
of ash on which the mind might rest,
drinking sun and light and smoke,
choked up with experience.

Skull I can’t bring myself to move.

Drawn to examine
despite aversion, consider
our head on its shoulders,
drawn expression
greeting loved ones
with arms outstretched.

the sheeps skull 3

John Kinsella is Founding editor of the journal Salt in Australia; he serves as international editor at the Kenyon Review. His most recent volume of poetry is Divine Comedy: Journeys through a Regional Geography (W. W. Norton) with a new volume, Disturbed Ground: Jam Tree Gully/Walden, due out with W.W. Norton in November 2011.

Randolph L Wilson’s Poem : Red Farm Tractor

The Red Farm Tractor Nigel Borrington

The Red Farm Tractor
Nigel Borrington

Red Farm Tractor

Randolph L Wilson

I long for the smell of fresh turned soil , an experience I’ve never forgotten ..
The smell of diesel , oil and grease ..The ringing of harrow and bush hog …
My Liberty overalls and size ten clod hoppers , suede cowboy hat , pocket watch and Bloodhound tobacco ..

Bob White Quail walking the wood line waiting to
get their fill of turned ground morsels , grains and grasshoppers ..
Curious Whitetailed Deer hiding in the shadows , Redtailed Hawks

Sunday by the lake 1

with a keen eye for field rats escaping the plow ..
A sixty two Massey Harris that ran like a’ Top ‘ through rain
and heat , never missing a beat !
My mind prays for the simple life of man and machine , the brushfires
of March , the restoration of God’s green earth ..

To A Butterfly – Poem by William Wordsworth

Peacock Butterfly 1

To A Butterfly

by William Wordsworth

I’VE watched you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!—not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again !

This plot of orchard-ground is ours;
My trees they are, my Sister’s flowers;
Here rest your wing when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We’ll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.

The Tree a poem by Tom Splitt

The Tree  Nigel Borrington

The Tree
Nigel Borrington

The Tree

by Tom Splitt

The calm quiet strength of a tree
Anchored deep in the earth
Reaching high in the sky
The calm quiet strength of a tree

The calm quiet strength of a tree
Full of life from its roots
To the tiniest branch
The calm quiet strength of a tree

And oh, how it comforts me
How it teaches me
Without a sound
Then I realize at once
That this tree and I are one
In eternity

The calm quiet strength of a tree
From the weight of its trunk
To its delicate leaves
The calm quiet strength of a tree

The calm quiet strength of a tree
Showing anyone near
All the secrets of time
The calm quiet strength of a tree

The Poem that Took the Place of a Mountain By Wallace Stevens

Mid summers sunset over Slievenamon, county tipperary, Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington

The Poem that Took the Place of a Mountain

By Wallace Stevens

There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain.

He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table.

It reminded him how he had needed
A place to go to in his own direction,

Slievenamon April 2014 2

How he had recomposed the pines,
Shifted the rocks and picked his way among clouds,

For the outlook that would be right,
Where he would be complete in an unexplained completion:

The exact rock where his inexactnesses
Would discover, at last, the view toward which they had edged,

Where he could lie and, gazing down at the sea,
Recognize his unique and solitary home.

Monday Gallery and Post , Our Garden Robin ….

Our Garden Robin Nature Photography Nigel Borrington

Our Garden Robin
Nature Photography
Nigel Borrington

Throughout the last few weeks, when ever I sit outside in the our garden, I am often accompanied by this little Robin, always brave and very forward he gets lots of leftovers from the meals and snacks I take outside.

So I thought today I would share him with on my blog , I am sure if he could do so he would get his own WordPress pages, I bet his post would be amazing:):)

Our Garden Robin 01 Nigel Borrington

Our Garden Robin 02 Nigel Borrington

Our Garden Robin 03 Nigel Borrington

Irish landscape photography : A weekend in the Landscape.

Newtown beach waterford 1

Its the weekend so why not get outside and see the places you always wanted to !

Have a great weekend whatever your doing:)

The Lake 1

Valentia Island Lighthouse, County Kerry Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington

Lytham Windmill Museum Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington

Hastings 01

Through the Gate Down the Lane, gareth culshaw

Kilkenny through the tress 4

Irish Landscapes, County Kilkenny
Nigel Borrington

Through the Gate Down the Lane

Through the gate down the lane
all the colours, splits in path
creaking, cracking, axed by frost
scythed by time.

Through the gate down the lane
footsteps left, gone to dust.
Voices in the limbs of trees
shaking leaves when the wind is in.

Through the gate down the lane
where summer has been only once.
Scorch marks of light left behind
the house is nettled, broken, still.

Bog cotton on the red bog, A Poem CHARLOTTE GRACE O’BRIEN (1845 – 1909)

bog cotton fields 7

BOG COTTON ON THE RED BOG

A Poem by
CHARLOTTE GRACE O’BRIEN (1845 –1909)
Foynes in June 1895

“ O STRONG-WINGED birds from over the moorland dark,
On this June day what have you seen?
Where have you been? ”

Where, oh! where
The golden yellow asphodel makes its boggy home,
And far and near, Spreading in broad bands of silvery silky foam
O’er the moorland drear, The slender stemmed bog cotton bends in waves of light,
Shaking out its shining tufts for its own delight,There, oh! there We have been.

“O sweet sky piercing, heaven mounting lark,
On this June day what have you seen?”

I have seen—I have seen
The dark red bog and the king fern green,
And the black
black pools lying dim between,–
The baby heather that blossoms so soon
In the splendid heat that comes after June–

———————–

Charlotte Grace O’Brien
was born in County Limerick, the daughter of
William Smith O’Brien who was a Conservative Member of Parliament for County Limerick; she championed the cause for better conditions for those emigrating to America.

Bog cotton on the red bog, images Gallery

bog cotton fields 6

bog cotton fields 5

bog cotton fields 4

bog cotton fields 3

bog cotton fields 2

In the Valley, a poem by : Stephanie Nicole

In the Valley Irish Landscape Photography Nigel Borrington

In the Valley
Irish Landscape Photography
Nigel Borrington

Stephanie Nicole
Jun 25, 2014

In the Valley

I’m having a rough time with it again.
It’s like mountains and valleys.
If I’m feeling great
I can make it to the top of a mountain.
But right now I’m down in the valley.
And looking at the next mountain,
I don’t want to climb it,
Because I know that beyond it there lie
More valleys.
So I may just stay here.

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