A Photographers blog


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 :)


Irish Landscape photography , The path to the beach – County Kerry

Irish Landscape Photography Brandon Point  County Kerry  Nigel Borrington

Irish Landscape Photography
Brandon Point
County Kerry
Nigel Borrington

The Path down to the Beach at BallyQuin, Brandon, County Kerry Ireland

The Path to the beach county Kerry 4

The Path to the beach county Kerry 01

The Path to the beach county Kerry 6

The Path to the beach county Kerry 5

The Path to the beach county Kerry 10

Sunset’s Ghost – Poem by Richard George

Sunsets Ghost Irish Landscapes Nigel Borrington 01

Sunset’s Ghost – Poem by Richard George

Lilac clouds, a wash of green
At daylight’s end:
When west is dark, to northward
A heat-haze aurora
Silhouettes our roof-slopes.
Beautiful, but it chills me:
We have made her burn with fever,
The sky, our mother.

Sunsets Ghost Irish Landscapes Nigel Borrington 02

Poem By : Richard George

Irish wild plants , Wild Orange Crocosmia

Wild Orange Crocosmia Nigel Borrington 2016

This showy plant graces many country lanes from July to September with a wonderful display of spikes of bright reddish-orange flowers. A familiar sight in the west of Ireland particularly, it is taken by many to be one of our native plants, along with Fuchsia. However, like Fuchsia, this is an introduction to our shores and is a hybrid between two South African species.

Common Name: 	Montbretia Scientific Name: 	Crocosmia x crocosmiiflora Irish Name: Fealeastram dearg

Common Name: Montbretia
Scientific Name: Crocosmia x crocosmiiflora
Irish Name: Fealeastram dearg

Nevertheless it is a very attractive sight and seems to blend in to our landscape, particularly in places where it grows alongside our native Purple Loosetrife. The flowers (25-55mm) are in a one-sided loose panicle and have a corolla which is tubed with six lobes. The three stamens protrude. The grass-like leaves are long and narrow. This plant belongs to the family Iridaceae.

This plant was named after Coquebert de Montbret (1780-1801) who was a French botanist who accompanied Napoleon when he invaded Egypt in 1798 and who died there at the age of 20. However, horticulturists also refer to this plant as ‘Crocosmia’ which comes from the Greek ‘krokos’ – saffron – and ‘osme’ – smell. I am told that they smell of saffron when placed in water but honestly I cannot confirm that this is so.

Mountain Poetry, Ride the foothills by : Denel Kessler

Foothills of Slievenamon Irish Landscape images Nigel Borrington

Foothills of Slievenamon
Irish Landscape images
Nigel Borrington

Denel Kessler

Chinook Skies

cobalt rain
rides the foothills
mountains conspire
in malevolent
cloud lairs

Waterford Coastline, Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

beneath gray waters
she treads
the warming sea
in constant current
scaled desire

Eveing river walk 1

burnished crimson
silver sleek
with ripened need
she lives to die

An Old Man on the River Bank, By George Seferis

River Barrow County Kilkenny Nigel Borrington

River Barrow
County Kilkenny
Nigel Borrington

An Old Man on the River Bank

By George Seferis

And yet we should consider how we go forward.
To feel is not enough, nor to think, nor to move
nor to put your body in danger in front of an old loophole
when scalding oil and molten lead furrow the walls.

And yet we should consider towards what we go forward,
not as our pain would have it, and our hungry children
and the chasm between us and the companions calling from the opposite shore;
nor as the bluish light whispers it in an improvised hospital,
the pharmaceutic glimmer on the pillow of the youth operated on at noon;
but it should be in some other way, I would say like
the long river that emerges from the great lakes enclosed deep in Africa,
that was once a god and then became a road and a benefactor, a judge and a delta;
that is never the same, as the ancient wise men taught,
and yet always remains the same body, the same bed, and the same Sign,
the same orientation.

I want nothing more than to speak simply, to be granted that grace.
Because we’ve loaded even our song with so much music that it’s slowly sinking
and we’ve decorated our art so much that its features have been eaten away by gold
and it’s time to say our few words because tomorrow our soul sets sail.

charles town Pan

If pain is human we are not human beings merely to suffer pain;
that’s why I think so much these days about the great river,
this meaning that moves forward among herbs and greenery
and beasts that graze and drink, men who sow and harvest,
great tombs even and small habitations of the dead.
This current that goes its way and that is not so different from the blood of men,
from the eyes of men when they look straight ahead without fear in their hearts,
without the daily tremor for trivialities or even for important things;
when they look straight ahead like the traveller who is used to gauging his way by the stars,
not like us, the other day, gazing at the enclosed garden of a sleepy Arab house,
behind the lattices the cool garden changing shape, growing larger and smaller,
we too changing, as we gazed, the shape of our desire and our hearts,
at noon’s precipitation, we the patient dough of a world that throws us out and kneads us,
caught in the embroidered nets of a life that was as it should be and then became dust and sank into the sands
leaving behind it only that vague dizzying sway of a tall palm tree.

Solo images : Jameson Irish Whiskey , County Cork – The Mash

Jameson Irish Whiskey The Mash Nigel Borrington

Jameson Irish Whiskey
The Mash
Nigel Borrington

The Whiskey mash

A mechanical metal stirring unit with a central bevel gear, installed to make stirring easier. That way the sugar could not only be extracted faster but also more efficiently. Less sugar was left in the husks of the grain, and the whisky became more affordable.

The mash has to be stirred for some time to extract the malt sugar from the grist. In earlier times, a lot of water used to evaporate during this process, and with the water steam the temperature fell constantly, which further impaired the extraction process. Only in the last century, when energy costs rose, nearly all mash tuns were equipped with a lid made of sheet metal (e.g. copper) in order to limit the loss of energy.

Friday Poem , The Valley And The Mountain Top

The Valley And The Mountain Top Nigel Borrington 2

The Valley And The Mountain Top

Though standing in this valley
with yet the mountain top in view,
I will indulge my aspiration
to see the sights from that point too!

This will be my challenge,
to get from here to there!
I’ll see the view from the mountain top,
and breath the mountain top air!

This is quite the challenge I chose
but I must make it to the top!
If the attempt determines
the success or failure,
“No way now can I stop!!!”

The Valley And The Mountain Top Nigel Borrington

There it is! I can see the top!
Mere feet am I away from my goal!
This challenge has pushed the limits,
I believe of my heart, mind, body and soul!

Though standing on this mountain top
with the view of the valley below,
I indulged my aspiration,
from my indulgement
this I do know!

As wonderful as the view is from here
to as far as the eye can see,
I must never forget where this started from,
with the view standing in the valley!

A Poem By – Thomas A Robinson Thomas , Borders and Fences

Borders and Fences Nigel Borrington

Borders and Fences
Nigel Borrington

Borders and Fences

Your borders
are mending fences
And false fiction
is the elevated
runoff of the headwaters
of your dreams
And the people black framed
in the cages
of the eternal moment’s collapse
Will gather generating
candle light wisdom
of those
who deny existence

House By The Sea – Poem by N Nobu

Allihies moments in the setting sun 009

House By The Sea – Poem by N Nobu

They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she.
Where sun sheltered
from the waning moon
myriads of stars
and the lightning beams.

They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she.
Where fireflies lit the sky
crickets sang nearby
and gentle waves kissed
the golden sands goodbye.

Allihies moments in the setting sun 008

They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she.
Fought a little, talked a lot
danced with the breeze
cherishing moment of
bliss and peace.

They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she

Allihies moments in the setting sun 003
She stooped a little
he antiqued a bit
there vision dimmed
with every passing cloud.

She died
In a house by the sea.
Mermaids tell he never cried
for he knew
Lovers never die
and she awaits otherside
where sea meets the sky…..

Landscape poems, “His Dream Of Skyland” by Li Po

Storm clouds over the lake

His Dream Of Skyland

The seafarers tell of the Eastern Isle of Bliss,
It is lost in a wilderness of misty sea waves.
But the Sky-land of the south, the Yueh-landers say,
May be seen through cracks of the glimmering cloud.
This land of the sky stretches across the leagues of heaven;
It rises above the Five Mountains and towers over the Scarlet Castle,

While, as if staggering before it, the Tien-tai Peak
Of forty-eight thousand feet leans toward the southeast.

So, longing to dream of the southlands of Wu and Yueh,
I flew across the Mirror Lake one night under the moon.

Derryvilla lake  Littleton bogs County Tipperary Irish landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

The moon in the lake followed my flight,
Followed me to the town of Yen-chi.
Here still stands the mansion of Prince Hsieh.
I saw the green waters curl and heard the monkeys’ shrill cries.
I climbed, putting on the clogs of the prince,
Skyward on a ladder of clouds,
And half-way up from the sky-wall I saw the morning sun,
And heard the heaven’s cock crowing in the mid-air.
Now among a thousand precipices my way wound round and round;
Flowers choked the path; I leaned against a rock; I swooned.

Roaring bears and howling dragons roused me –
Oh, the clamorous waters of the rapids!
I trembled in the deep forest, and shuddered at the overhanging crags,
one heaped upon another.
Clouds on clouds gathered above, threatening rain;
The waters gushed below, breaking into mist.

A peal of blasting thunder!
The mountains crumbled.
The stone gate of the hollow heaven
Opened wide, revealing
A vasty realm of azure without bottom,
Sun and moon shining together on gold and silver palaces.

Rainbow over the river suir 1

Clad in rainbow and riding on the wind,
The ladies of the air descended like flower, flakes;
The faery lords trooping in, they were thick as hemp-stalks in the fields.
Phoenix birds circled their cars, and panthers played upon harps.
Bewilderment filled me, and terror seized on my heart.
I lifted myself in amazement, and alas!
I woke and found my bed and pillow –
Gone was the radiant world of gossamer.

So with all pleasures of life.
All things pass with the east-flowing water.
I leave you and go – when shall I return?
Let the white roe feed at will among the green crags,
Let me ride and visit the lovely mountains!
How can I stoop obsequiously and serve the mighty ones!
It stifles my soul.

– Li Po. Translated by: Shigeyoshi Obata


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