Capturing the world with Photography, Painting and Drawing

Down on the farm

Kilkenny Landscape images : Rain clouds return , July 15th 2018

County Kilkenny Landscapes
Rain clouds return
Nikon D700
50mm AIS f1.8 lens

Return of Rain

The cloud drops on my lip
On the tip of my nose
I get hugged by the drip
Ah, rain is so close!
The heat is now a story
The balm seems so near
Regaining its lost glory
Surely the monsoon is here!
Tip-tap on my windowpane
Dark floaters are busy
Pouring on men and women
Life is once more easy!
I’m glad the rain is back
To awaken the soil’s green
Wipe out the summer’s crack
Dance on my parched roof tin!

Tip-tap on my windowpane
Dark floaters are busy
Pouring on men and women
Life is once more easy!
I’m glad the rain is back
To awaken the soil’s green
Wipe out the summer’s crack
Dance on my parched roof tin!


Kilkenny Landscape Photography, Images of July 2018

Irish Landscape Images
County Kilkenny
Barley fields
July 3rd 2018
Nikon D700
Nigel Borrington

Irish Landscape Images
County Kilkenny
Barley fields
July 3rd 2018
Nikon D700
Nigel Borrington


Summer Heat Wave, In pictures ….

Irish landscape photography
County Kilkenny
The heat wave of 2018
Nigel Borrington

Ireland’s is currently in heat wave conditions with no big change on the horizon, so today I headed out for a walk and started to capture our local landscape in these conditions. Here in County Kilkenny we have not been affected quite as badly yet as in county Dublin but as you can see from these images the hedgerows and fields are starting to turn to a light brown and some of the trees are only just hanging on.


Summer Poems : Haymaking, By Edward Thomas

Summer Poems : Haymaking

By Edward Thomas

Aftear night’s thunder far away had rolled
The fiery day had a kernel sweet of cold,
And in the perfect blue the clouds uncurled,
Like the first gods before they made the world
And misery, swimming the stormless sea
In beauty and in divine gaiety.

The smooth white empty road was lightly strewn
With leaves—the holly’s Autumn falls in June—
And fir cones standing stiff up in the heat.
The mill-foot water tumbled white and lit
With tossing crystals, happier than any crowd
Of children pouring out of school aloud.

And in the little thickets where a sleeper
For ever might lie lost, the nettle-creeper
And garden warbler sang unceasingly;
While over them shrill shrieked in his fierce glee
The swift with wings and tail as sharp and narrow
As if the bow had flown off with the arrow.

Only the scent of woodbine and hay new-mown
Travelled the road. In the field sloping down,
Park-like, to where its willows showed the brook,
Haymakers rested. The tosser lay forsook
Out in the sun; and the long waggon stood
Without its team, it seemed it never would
Move from the shadow of that single yew.

The team, as still, until their task was due,
Beside the labourers enjoyed the shade
That three squat oaks mid-field together made
Upon a circle of grass and weed uncut,
And on the hollow, once a chalk-pit, but
Now brimmed with nut and elder-flower so clean.

The men leaned on their rakes, about to begin,
But still. And all were silent. All was old,
This morning time, with a great age untold,
Older than Clare and Cobbett, Morland and Crome,
Than, at the field’s far edge, the farmer’s home,
A white house crouched at the foot of a great tree.

Under the heavens that know not what years be
The men, the beasts, the trees, the implements
Uttered even what they will in times far hence—
All of us gone out of the reach of change—
Immortal in a picture of an old grange.


Craftsmen in pictures : Tom Allison – blacksmith

Tom Allison blacksmith blueberry hill farm and muckross farm
county kerry
Nigel Borrington

TOM ALLISON

Last week while visiting Muckross Traditional Farm, I was lucky enough to meet and chat with Tom Allison, he is an experienced professional and you can tell that he has a passion for blacksmithing. With his easy-going way of showing you how he works and creates some amazing items.

Tom studied blacksmithing at Hereford College in 1997 and continued his training with an apprenticeship in Wales for 2 years. Tom moved to Sneem in 2000 to set up his own forge and since then has completed a number of major commissions.

I spend a good amount of time watching Tom work in the old forge at Muckross Traditional Farm while he demonstrated the old skills of blacksmithing. His work ranges from contemporary art and designs to traditional historical reproduction and restoration.


Monday Poetry : The Mountain Horse

Mountain Horse
Slievenamon
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington

The Mountain Horse

Its cold at dawn in the Great Divide
And the Dew lies thick on the mountainside,
The bite of the cold air nearly makes you choke
And breath from your nostrils like dragon smoke.

The saddles are on and the cinch is tight,
Bridles are buckled and a bit to bight,
The horsemen are ready to break the camp,
The mist still rising and the bush is all damp.

The mobs been found in a clearing up ahead,
They’re all wild horses and they’re mountain bred.
Bushes flying by lashing legs and sides,
There’s danger here now for anyone who rides.

An overhanging limb so bend down low
Around rocks and wombat holes we go
There’s a mighty log we’ll have to jump
Look out, look out avoid the stump.

The big bay stallion leads his harem through the creek
There’s no place here for faint hearted or the meek,
Their hooves are like thunder and stock whips are cracking
Horses are snorting and their courage is not lacking.

Down along the valley where he knows every stride
Down along the valley where the wings are stretching wide,
But it’s too late, he knows it now, there’s nowhere left to run,
He turns and rears up high, his fight has just begun.

Something about these mountains makes you want to stay
And a mountain horse’s spirit you cannot take away.
My mind wanders back to a day not long ago,
When the horsemen came and found my mob and I put on the show.


Land Divided Into Farms

Land Divided into farms
County Kerry
Ireland
Nigel Borrington


Land Divided Into Farms

The land it was divided, into farms for cattle and sheep,
Some land they grew the corn, for the workers to keep,
Some they had wheat to sell, was taken to the mill,
Their stone ground for bread, the baker’s shop and his van to fill.

Some land it stayed in woodland, itself to regenerate,
As old ones fall and lets in light, young saplings they do await,
A long cycle of new to old, from the old forestation to new
Fenced all round now, and preserved for this nation.


December on the Farm, A photo-story …..


A Country Boy in Winter , A poem by : Sarah Orne Jewett

snowly mountain 2

A Country Boy in Winter

By Sarah Orne Jewett

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.


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.