Images from the Road, west Cork
One summers afternoon on a visit to Castletownbere, I sat down on a bench at the quay’s and took some images of the ferry arriving from Bere island. West Cork has many small Islands but not all are serviced so well by ferries like this one.
I have lived in different locations during my life and lived with different methods of transport (Cars, A Bus, trains, motorcycles, cycles) but never a ferry, it must be an amazing things to live your life using one each and everyday to get home. The passengers on the ferry during the day were people getting to work, shopping, school kids and holiday makers.
Both locations well work a visit.
A Gallery of a ferry
By Thomas Hardy
I heard a small sad sound,
And stood awhile among the tombs around:
“Wherefore, old friends,” said I, “are you distrest,
Now, screened from life’s unrest?”
—”O not at being here;
But that our future second death is near;
When, with the living, memory of us numbs,
And blank oblivion comes!
“These, our sped ancestry,
Lie here embraced by deeper death than we;
Nor shape nor thought of theirs can you descry
With keenest backward eye.
“They count as quite forgot;
They are as men who have existed not;
Theirs is a loss past loss of fitful breath;
It is the second death.
“We here, as yet, each day
Are blest with dear recall; as yet, can say
We hold in some soul loved continuance
Of shape and voice and glance.
“But what has been will be —
First memory, then oblivion’s swallowing sea;
Like men foregone, shall we merge into those
Whose story no one knows.
“For which of us could hope
To show in life that world-awakening scope
Granted the few whose memory none lets die,
But all men magnify?
“We were but Fortune’s sport;
Things true, things lovely, things of good report
We neither shunned nor sought … We see our bourne,
And seeing it we mourn.”