The colour of winter, Red Holly Berries the colour of Christmas
The colour of Winter
Holly Berries
Ballykeefe woods county kilkenny
Nigel Borrington
Some background Culture of Holly
Holly – more specifically the European holly, Ilex aquifolium – is commonly referenced at Christmas time, and is often referred to by the name Christ’s thorn. In many Western Christian cultures, holly is a traditional Christmas decoration, used especially in wreaths and illustrations, for instance on Christmas cards. Since medieval times the plant has carried a Christian symbolism, as expressed in the well-known Christian Christmas carol “The Holly and the Ivy”, in which the holly represents Jesus and the ivy represents the Virgin Mary. Angie Mostellar discusses the Christian use of holly at Christmas, stating that:
Christians have identified a wealth of symbolism in its form. The sharpness of the leaves help to recall the crown of thorns worn by Jesus; the red berries serve as a reminder of the drops of blood that were shed for salvation; and the shape of the leaves, which resemble flames, can serve to reveal God’s burning love for His people. Combined with the fact that holly maintains its bright colors during the Christmas season, it naturally came to be associated with the Christian holiday.
In heraldry, holly is used to symbolize truth. The Norwegian municipality of Stord has a yellow twig of holly in its Coat-of-arms.
The Druids held that “leaves of holly offered protection against evil spirits” and thus “wore holly in their hair”.
In the Harry Potter novels, holly is used as the wood in Harry’s wand.
In some Traditions of Wicca, the Holly King is one of the faces of the Sun God. He is born at Midsummer and rules from Mabon to Ostara
Tipperary Landscape images, Snow on Slievenamon, December 2017
Tipperary Landscape images, Snow on Slievenamon, December 2017
Nigel Borrington
A Panoramic image of the county Tipperary mountain slievenamon, We had a lot of Snow locally last Sunday and today Friday the only snow to be found was at the top of the mountain. Its a little Hard to present Panoramic images on a blog like this one, so I hope that you will click on the image to get the full size version.
This view is from the road at the bottom of the path used to walk to the top on the mountain, the path is up-hill all the way and as such while its not a long walk its a demanding one. When you get to the top however the views are well worth the energy and time spent 🙂
Images without words – Now the snow has gone, the river is high ………
Now the Snow has gone
River Suir
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington
Snow Clouds, A winters Poem
Snow clouds
Nigel Borrington
Snow Clouds
Flying above a layer of mountain tops
Blue snow clouds, deep blue, yellow and white
It looks like the snow-coated hills,
are covered in snowdrifts and gaps,
where the winter heather peeks through,
Walking with carefully so you Don’t fall
down into the drifts.
The Snow Man – Poem by Wallace Stevens
The Snow Man
Nigel Borrington
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
The Snow Man
Wallace Stevens
Snow Day – Poem by Billy Collins
Snow Day – Poem by Billy Collins
Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,
its white flag waving over everything,
the landscape vanished,
not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,
and beyond these windows
the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost
under the noiseless drift,
the paths of trains softly blocked,
the world fallen under this falling.
In a while I will put on some boots
and step out like someone walking in water,
and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,
and I will shake a laden branch,
sending a cold shower down on us both.
But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,
a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.
I will make a pot of tea
and listen to the plastic radio on the counter,
as glad as anyone to hear the news
that the Kiddie Corner School is closed,
the Ding-Dong School, closed,
the All Aboard Children’s School, closed,
the Hi-Ho Nursery School, closed,
along with – some will be delighted to hear –
the Toadstool School, the Little School,
Little Sparrows Nursery School,
Little Stars Pre-School, Peas-and-Carrots Day School,
the Tom Thumb Child Center, all closed,
and – clap your hands – the Peanuts Play School.
So this is where the children hide all day,
These are the nests where they letter and draw,
where they put on their bright miniature jackets,
all darting and climbing and sliding,
all but the few girls whispering by the fence.
And now I am listening hard
in the grandiose silence of the snow,
trying to hear what those three girls are plotting,
what riot is afoot,
which small queen is about to be brought down.
Snow Day
A Decembers Frost – A winters photo Gallery.
A Winters Frost
December 2017
County Kilkenny
Ireland
Nigel Borrington
Reefert church, Glendalough, County Wicklow
Reefort, Glendalough Monastic City, Glendalough
Glendalough has one of the biggest collections of Monastic remains in Europe, one of the most beautiful simply has to be Reefort church, located in the ancient woodlands above the lough this little chapel and is small grave yard are such a perfect reminder of an age that has long past us by.
The remains of Reefert Church are situated in a oak woodland setting, on the south-eastern shore of the Upper Lake close to an Information Office. Reefert derives its name from the Irish ‘Righ Fearta’ meaning burial place of the kings (referring to the local rulers – the O’Toole family). It dates from the eleventh century and is likely to have been built on the site of an earlier church. The church and graveyard were originally surrounded by a stone wall enclosure known in Gaelic as a ‘caiseal’. Most of the present surrounding walls however are modern. The upper parts of the church walls were re-built over 100 years ago using the original stones.
Gallery
Great Poems : A New Start. – by Bernard Shaw
A New Start. – Poem by Bernard Shaw
I have wiped the slate clean,
No more reminders from the past.
Memories of what I have been,
Have vanished at long last.
.
I look forward to my future new,
Where all is territory strange.
Soon I will be among the few,
That plans their life at long range.
.
I see my life laid out at my feet,
New friends shall rally at my call.
They will be the first I will greet,
At this my welcoming ball.
.
Soon all memories will depart,
Of a past left well behind.
I will get off to a new start,
With the best of mankind.
Bernard Shaw
The view from the Spink, Glendalough, County Wicklow
View from the Spink
glendalough
county Wicklow
ireland
Nigel Borrington
The Spink and the Wicklow Mountains National Park
Back in the 6th century, hermit monk Saint Kevin first sought solace and contemplation in the idyllic surroundings of Glendalough. His followers established a monastery here, which would become one of the most important monastic sites in Europe. The focal point was the 33m high round tower, where the monks could hide away, keen to keep their precious manuscripts from the hands of invading Vikings.
The Glendalough Valley is now part of the Wicklow Mountains National Park. Established in 1991, it now extends to more than 170sq km. Only an hour’s drive from Dublin city, there is a vast array of routes at all levels of difficulty. But Glendalough is best explored on the Spink and Glenealo Valley Route, a high quality loop walk with excellent waymarking and a well-maintained trail.
Back at the Visitor Centre there are refreshments available in the restaurant, or you might want to head for the nearby village of Laragh with its restaurants and pubs. Laragh also makes a great base for further exploration of the surrounding mountains. Experienced walkers might want to climb Lugnaquilla, the highest mountain in Wicklow, while those in pursuit of more leisurely walks can explore historic Glenmalure or the scenic area around Lough Dan.
Slightly further north is the village of Roundwood, with its thriving Sunday market. Further north still the beautiful formal gardens of the Powerscourt Estate lie in the shadow of Sugarloaf Mountain. Don’t miss Powerscourt Waterfall close by, at 130m the highest waterfall in Ireland or Britain. The cascade is impressive at any time of year, but especially dramatic after rain.
Delete
The Spink, Wicklow Mountains National Park, Gallery
The Landscape of Glendalough, county Wicklow , Crossing The Bar, A Poem by – Alfred Lord Tennyson
Glendalough
county
Wicklow Ireland
Nigel Borrington
Crossing The Bar – Poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have cross the bar.
A week in glendalough, County Wicklow
glendalough
county wexford
ireland
Nigel Borrington
This week I am going to dedicate a lot of my posts to one of the most amazing landscape locations in Ireland, Glendaloughin, County Wicklow. Over the weekend we spent sometime there and loved it very much. Its a perfect location for walking relaxing and taking in the amazing views.
This is such a great location I feel I should take a little time to share its history and some of the pictures I captures from this weekend.
Saying goodbye to November , Poem:November By, William Cullen Bryant, 1794 – 1878
November
William Cullen Bryant, 1794 – 1878
Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!
One mellow smile through the soft vapory air,
Ere, o’er the frozen earth, the loud winds run,
Or snows are sifted o’er the meadows bare.
One smile on the brown hills and naked trees,
And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast,
And the blue gentian flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee
Shall murmur by the hedge that skirts the way,
The cricket chirp upon the russet lea,
And man delight to linger in thy ray.
Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear
The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air.
Images without words, Nature in a winter forest : shrubby fruticose lichens
Images without words
Nature in a winter forest
shrubby fruticose lichens
Nigel Borrington
The Natural colours of winter, The Purple of Herb Robert
The natural colours of winter
Purple
Herb Robert
Nigel Borrington
Herb Robert
Geranium robertianum
NL: Robertskruid
F: Géranium Herbe à Robert
Geranium robertianum grows spontaneous and abundantly in many gardens. Some people keep wondering about its edibility, since there is not much to be found about it in books on edible wild plants. Its less than appealing taste seems to be at least partly responsible for its absence in culinary creations. In survival situations, where one would need to live on what’s available, this plant could be a real asset, since it is rich in essential nutrients such as calcium, iron, magnesium, potassium, vitamins A, C, etc. It is also rich in the element germanium, which has antioxidant activity, helps to strengthen the immune system and is essential to providing energy and oxygen to the cells.
The Natural colours of winter , Reds and greens
The natural colours of winter
On the Forest floor
Nature photography Nigel Borrington
Some two weeks ago I took a part here on my blog in a seven day Black and White photography challenge, I loved these seven days with my camera with only light to work with, very much. However ever since I just wanted to get out and find as much of natures winter colours as I could find. At first this task looked a little harder than I thought it would be, so much of nature has died back as we slip into the early winter weeks, yet the more you look the more you find.
Like these strong reds of slowly rotting berries I found just sitting on a fallen Oak leaf.
Red has to be on of the strongest colours of autumn and early winter, it feels like the colour of the last signs of life as much vegetation turn red just days before its finally returns to the ground, the very place it took its first energy of life from.
A Country Boy in Winter , A poem by : Sarah Orne Jewett
A Country Boy in Winter
The wind may blow the snow about,
For all I care, says Jack,
And I don’t mind how cold it grows,
For then the ice won’t crack.
Old folks may shiver all day long,
But I shall never freeze;
What cares a jolly boy like me
For winter days like these?
Far down the long snow-covered hills
It is such fun to coast,
So clear the road! the fastest sled
There is in school I boast.
The paint is pretty well worn off,
But then I take the lead;
A dandy sled’s a loiterer,
And I go in for speed.
When I go home at supper-time,
Ki! but my cheeks are red!
They burn and sting like anything;
I’m cross until I’m fed.
You ought to see the biscuit go,
I am so hungry then;
And old Aunt Polly says that boys
Eat twice as much as men.
There’s always something I can do
To pass the time away;
The dark comes quick in winter-time—
A short and stormy day
And when I give my mind to it,
It’s just as father says,
I almost do a man’s work now,
And help him many ways.
I shall be glad when I grow up
And get all through with school,
I’ll show them by-and-by that I
Was not meant for a fool.
I’ll take the crops off this old farm,
I’ll do the best I can.
A jolly boy like me won’t be
A dolt when he’s a man.
I like to hear the old horse neigh
Just as I come in sight,
The oxen poke me with their horns
To get their hay at night.
Somehow the creatures seem like friends,
And like to see me come.
Some fellows talk about New York,
But I shall stay at home.
Eva Cassidy – Who Knows Where The Time Goes ?
Eva Cassidy – Who Knows Where The Time Goes ?
Across the evening sky,all the birds are leaving
Oh but then you know, it was time for them to go
By the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I do not count the time
for who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sad,deserted shore
your fickle friends are leaving
oh, but then you know it was time for them to go
But I will still be here
I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time
for who knows where the time goes?
I know I’m not alone
while my love is near me
I know that its so until its time to go
All the storms in Winter and the birds in Spring again
I do not count the time
For who knows where the time goes?
who knows where the time goes?
who knows where the time goes?
Poem for the Weekend : Just Over The Mountain by Michael Ruger
Just Over The Mountain
© Michael Ruger
Just Over The Mountain
Irish landscape Photography
Nigel Borrington
As a tangerine sky lights up countless trees
sunrise has come to bless my way
Comes another day away from my yesterdays
Yes they wait just over this mountain
Down a steep ragged hill
across a rock gurgling streams
into the valley low
I will never go back
This mountain and me are one
It know I mean it no harm
It allows me to live here in peace
Today is fresh wild strawberry day
Compliments of this mountain meadow
I will take only what I need
for there are so many creatures that have need of them.
The Blue Jay screams you go
as Crows on the way give a call
I will walk back to the spring down below
and just sit there and take in THE ALL
Its is another grand day on the mountain
Winter Sky , Poem by : Lisa La Grange
Winter Skys
County Kilkenny
Ireland
Nigel Borrington
Come walk beneath the winter sky
as crystal starlight shimmers down,
to where the whispered snowflakes lie
to cloak the valley like a gown.
Walk ever forward and forget
the promises that never came;
and all the volumes of regret
to which our passions lay their claim.
The cold magnificence that glows
with luminescent mystery,
placates the agony of woes
that overshadow history.
Leave twisted trails of grief behind
and venture on a virgin plain,
as destiny becomes aligned
with hope’s provocative refrain.
Nigel Borrington 
Winter colours in December , the month of great sunrises and sunset …….
Irish Landscapes
Kilkenny
Nigel Borrington
December , the month of great sunrises and sunset …….
To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple colouring the skies,
Aflood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.
Emily Pauline Johnson
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December 1, 2017 | Categories: Comment, Gallery, Landscape, SUn images, the elements, Winter colour | Tags: December, Kilkenny, Nigel Borrington, sunrises, sunset, Winter colours | 2 Comments