The path to Top Withens,Earnshaw family house Wuthering Heights : Wuthering Heights, a Poem by Sylvia Plaths
The path to Top Withens,Earnshaw family house Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë.
Nigel Borrington
Last week we spent sometime in West Yorkshire, at Haworth the home town of the Brontë sisters, visiting the Parsonage Museum and walking upto Top Withens, the Earnshaw’s home in Emily Brontë’s novel – Wuthering heights.
The old farm house is located in some stunning landscape, the best west Yorkshire has to offer.
This is how Mr. Lockwood in the book describes his first impressions of Wuthering Heights …
Top Withens,Earnshaw family house Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë.
Nigel Borrington
” Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff’s
dwelling. ‘Wuthering’ being a significant provincial
adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which
its station is exposed in stormy weather.
Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed:
one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun.
Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong:
the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the
corners defended with large jutting stones. ”
Top Withens (also known as Top Withins)
Is a ruined farmhouse near Haworth, West Yorkshire, England which is said to have been the inspiration for the location of the Earnshaw family house Wuthering Heights in the novel of the same name by Emily Brontë.
A plaque affixed to a wall reads:
“ This farmhouse has been associated with “Wuthering Heights”, the Earnshaw home in Emily Brontë’s novel. The buildings, even when complete, bore no resemblance to the house she described, but the situation may have been in her mind when she wrote of the moorland setting of the Heights. ”
Wuthering Heights a Poem By: Sylvia Plath
Top Withens, West Yorkshire, England
English Landscapes
Nigel Borrington
The horizons ring me like faggots,
Tilted and disparate, and always unstable.
Touched by a match, they might warm me,
And their fine lines singe
The air to orange
Before the distances they pin evaporate,
Weighting the pale sky with a soldier color.
But they only dissolve and dissolve
Like a series of promises, as I step forward.
There is no life higher than the grasstops
Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind
Pours by like destiny, bending
Everything in one direction.
I can feel it trying
To funnel my heat away.
If I pay the roots of the heather
Too close attention, they will invite me
To whiten my bones among them.
The sheep know where they are,
Browsing in their dirty wool-clouds,
Grey as the weather.
The black slots of their pupils take me in.
It is like being mailed into space,
A thin, silly message.
They stand about in grandmotherly disguise,
All wig curls and yellow teeth
And hard, marbly baas.
I come to wheel ruts, and water
Limpid as the solitudes
That flee through my fingers.
Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass;
Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves.
Of people the air only
Remembers a few odd syllables.
It rehearses them moaningly:
Black stone, black stone.
The sky leans on me, me, the one upright
Among the horizontals.
The grass is beating its head distractedly.
It is too delicate
For a life in such company;
Darkness terrifies it.
Now, in valleys narrow
And black as purses, the house lights
Gleam like small change.
5 Images for May, Friday
Ok , Today is more of a collection of images than one single image, to close the week 🙂
May and the local farms are getting busy, Irish farms are usually a little smaller than in Mainland Europe, so for some of the work a small tractor is still needed in order to work the smaller fields.
These images are a study of a little tractor most likely still used for many tasks around the farm over the next weeks of this busy month …..
Places on my walks , Crohare Church, Killenaule, county Tipperary
Crohane Chruch
County Tipperary
Ireland
Crohane church is located just over the boarder from county Tipperary in the area of Killenaule and its a beautiful little chapel, located down a narrow drive way.
As you can see here, at this time of year the church is just starting to be surrounded by the green of the local oak trees and the colour of the wild flowers that grow in the stone wall that surrounds the Grave yard.
Crohane Church,a place of peace and stillness ……
W.B. Yeats, The Land of Heart’s Desire
W.B. Yeats, The Land of Heart’s Desire
Irish Landscapes
Nigel Borrington
“God spreads the heavens above us like great wings
And gives a little round of deeds and days,
And then come the wrecked angels and set snares,
And bait them with light hopes and heavy dreams,
Until the heart is puffed with pride and goes
Half shuddering and half joyous from God’s peace;
And it was some wrecked angel, blind with tears,
Who flattered Edane’s heart with merry words.
Come, faeries, take me out of this dull house!
Let me have all the freedom I have lost;
Work when I will and idle when I will!
Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame.
I would take the world
And break it into pieces in my hands
To see you smile watching it crumble away.
Once a fly dancing in a beam of the sun,
Or the light wind blowing out of the dawn,
Could fill your heart with dreams none other knew,
But now the indissoluble sacrament
Has mixed your heart that was most proud and cold
With my warm heart for ever; the sun and moon
Must fade and heaven be rolled up like a scroll
But your white spirit still walk by my spirit.
When winter sleep is abroad my hair grows thin,
My feet unsteady. When the leaves awaken
My mother carries me in her golden arms;
I’ll soon put on my womanhood and marry
The spirits of wood and water, but who can tell
When I was born for the first time?
The wind blows out of the gates of the day,
The wind blows over the lonely of heart,
And the lonely of heart is withered away;
While the faeries dance in a place apart,
Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,
Tossing their milk-white arms in the air;
For they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing
Of a land where even the old are fair,
And even the wise are merry of tongue;
But I heard a reed of Coolaney say–
When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung,
The lonely of heart is withered away.”
― W.B. Yeats, The Land of Heart’s Desire
A view of Glasgow from the Lighthouse Museum
The Lighthouse Museum, Scotland’s Center for Design and Architecture, is a visitor center, exhibition space and events venue situated in the heart of Glasgow, just off the Style Mile. The Lighthouse acts as a beacon for the creative industries in Scotland and promotes design and architecture through a vibrant programme of exhibitions and events.
The Museum building formerly housed the Glasgow Herald, it was the first public commission completed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and is the perfect place to begin a Mackintosh tour of Glasgow, as it has a permanent exhibition of his work.
We visited both the viewing tower and all the great exhibitions three weeks ago, it was one of the highlights of our time in this great Scottish city…..
These images show the spiral staircase that accesses the viewing tower and a view from each of the platforms at the top.
The Mountain, a poem by Deloris Louise Pacheco, USA
Carrauntoohil, County Kerry
Irish Landscapes
Nigel Borrington
It was just before dusk
When he started his climb
The path grew narrow
So the dog went ahead
It grew rocky and steep
But the old man kept up
Not knowing the dog
Had slowed his pace
The old man thought back
To his very first climb
That summer evening
Of his twelfth year
All alone on the mountain
A heaven full of stars
A rock for his pillow
He talked to the moon
He asked many questions
He called his ancestors by name
The heavens answered him
With many signs and sounds
That were later explained to him
By the tribal Medicine Man
A man who came to play
A very important part in his life
He became a warrior that year
He learned much from his family
The tribal customs and traditions
Were ingrained in his soul
He was a good listener
And was comfortable with words
He was accepted by the coucil
At a very young age
He had the strength of his father
The patience of his mother
The intelligence of his grandmother
And the wisdom of his grandfather
He learned how to guide
Not only himself but others
He had become all things
To all of those around him
He was a good chief
But his days were dwindling
His mind kept going back
Over all the things he had done
No regrets, no what ifs
Knowing he did his best
But things were changing
It was the dawn of a new era
The old man reached the ledge
Where he had stood many times
Since being that boy of twelve
And he was still awed
By the beauty of the heavens
The stars seemed so close
You could reach out and touch them
And that night, he did
The Cottage By The Sea – A Poem by Esme Shaw
Come my love and live with me
In a sweet little cottage by the sea
Where roses grow around the door
And flowers bloom for evermore
Inside my cottage clean and neat
A big brick fireplace will give out heat
Outside the birds will sing all day
And on the beach the children play
So come my love to the cottage by the sea
And see how happy we will be.
Esme Shaw
A Cottage by the Sea …
From the mountain to the sea, By Sophie Boswell
From The Mountain to the sea
Irish Landscapes
Nigel Borrington
Life is like a journey from the mountain to the sea
A struggle through many layers to finally feel free
Free to go out and see the wonders of the world
Where, in the process, one is often hurled
This way and that, through the good and the bad
Where emotions are flung lose to the point of driving you mad
Sometimes, when I’m down, and feel worn out
And everything around me seems to be in doubt
My vision is blurred; my judgment is haywire
And my demons rejoice in putting out my fire
I think about the journey from the mountain to the sea
By the light of the moon; a heavenly place to be
This place, in the mind, will always set me free
to be the happy wanderer I was meant to be
Gathering and searching in peaceful solitude
Where time and nature can alter my mood
And the Spirit of Life will breathe inside me
As I journey from the mountain to the sea.
Tales from the river Bank, River Suir, Country Tipperary
Tales from the River Bank,
River Suir,
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington
A Walk along the River Suir : Gallery
The Last Sun light in an evening Haze
Evening haze from a March sunset
Nigel Borrington
The last Yellow beam in the sky drowns itself.
Haze tinged – leave-taken.
Delicate draperies of fog are waving.
A slight evening shadow sinks into them.
The Sun donates the last of its day.
Still standing alone in the early evening.
needing a resting from the dance.
Until starlight breaks through.
A wondrous silence falls like a dream.
The amazement of the coming night awakes.
A last call dies away, it is barely to hear.
And trees and bushes by the wayside
coming together tightly,
aspirating their song of praise into the night.
Slievenamon, Tipperary, the many faces of a Mountain …
Slievenamon , Tipperary
The main faces of a mountain
Nigel Borrington
The most amazing thing about living close to a mountain is that almost every time your lucky enough to walk to the top the weather is different, sometimes rain, sometime fog and others times bright sunshine.
The type of weather on the mountain, I love the most is the dramatic rain and mist ….
Killarney national park , Ireland
Killarney National Park Nigel Borrington
Irish landscapes
Friday the 10th of March 2017 and I am just planning some weekends away during the year, I am very keen to spend sometime as soon as possible back in the National park of Killarney. The park is a perfect place to visit if your into photography with its mountains and lakes and fast flowing rivers.
Its also an amazing place to cycle, so I am hopping to plan a B&B route leaving the car behind and spending time cycling in the Kerry mountains 🙂
Lower Lake Killarney 2011
Today along the river Suir, County Tipperary
March on the river banks
River Suir
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington
Early March walking along the banks of the river Suir, county Tipperary.
The trees are still bare but not for long now, we had the first dry day for a long time yet it was cool.
I love this river walk very much, a mountain view of Slievenamon county Tipperary, on the north side of the river and of the hills of county Waterford on the south side.
The river Suir, Tipperary, March 8th 2017 🙂
Irish Landscape, “As above so below” Quotes by Isaac Newton from 1680.
As above so below
Irish landscapes in sunlight
Nigel Borrington
At this time of year the sky’s and the sunlight can be an amazing sight on the landscape. views like these always remind me of the words of Isaac Newton when he said “As above so below”. he was the scientist who when working with sunlight and a prism split pure white light into its colors of (red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet).
The words “As above so below”
Quoted here is the version by Isaac Newton from circa 1680.
. Tis true without lying, certain & most true.
. That which is below is like that which is above & that which is above is like that which is below to do the miracles of one only thing.
. And as all things have been & arose from one by the meditation of one: so all things have their birth from this one thing by adaptation.
. The Sun is its father, the moon its mother,
. The wind hath carried it in its belly, the earth its nurse.
. The father of all perfection in the whole world is here.
. Its force or power is entire if it be converted into earth.
. Separate thou the earth from the fire, the subtle from the gross sweetly with great industry.
. It ascends from the earth to the heaven & again it descends to the earth and receives the force of things superior & inferior.
. By this means you shall have the glory of the whole world & thereby all obscurity shall fly from you.
. Its force is above all force, for it vanquishes every subtle thing & penetrates every solid thing.
. So was the world created.
. From this are & do come admirable adaptations where of the means (or process) is here in this.
. Hence I am called Hermes Trismegist, having the three parts of the philosophy of the whole world.
. That which I have said of the operation of the Sun is accomplished & ended.
As above so below, Gallery
Dear March – Come in – By Emily Dickinson(1830 – 1886)
Irish Landscape images
March 2017
Nigel Borrington
Dear March – Come in
Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886
Dear March – Come in –
How glad I am –
I hoped for you before –
Put down your Hat –
You must have walked –
How out of Breath you are –
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest –
Did you leave Nature well –
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me –
I have so much to tell –
I got your Letter, and the Birds –
The Maples never knew that you were coming –
I declare – how Red their Faces grew –
But March, forgive me –
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue –
There was no Purple suitable –
You took it all with you –
Who knocks? That April –
Lock the Door –
I will not be pursued –
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied –
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come
That blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame –
Artist Introduction, Paul Walls – A painter of motion
Grey Day, Muckross Head, County Donegal, By Walls, Paul
I first came across the paintings of Artist Paul Walls at an exhibition called “Currents”, held in the old friary building in Callan, County Kilkenny 2004, and instantly fell in love with his painting style and the resulting art works he produces.
I think it would be fair to say that Paul uses paint in a very loose and direct way on the canvas, I like this style very much!. Paul is one of those artists who’s work you actual need to see face to face to get a true feeling for their paintings and with Paul the depth and movement that each brush stroke has.
I feel that this style of painting is perfect for the subjects Paul captures, (Irish coastlines and countryside) on wet and windy days, days that we do so often get here.
Even when its not raining in Ireland its often windy and the above painting captures this mood so very well, Paul’s use of paint in the trees above the boats I feel captures the movement in a typical Irish day.
There will always be people who like different types of painting styles, some loving very photo realistic landscapes , others love abstract work, personally what I love most about Paul’s work is the overwhelming sense that he has captures a very active landscape and worked with it in a very pro-active fashion.
When viewing Paul’s painting you feel like you have first hand experience of the rain and the cliffs and the stormy sea.
This is the link to Paul Walls web site : Artists Paul walls
Monday Poetry, The Water Replies – Luke Kennard
The Water Replies
Waterford Coastline, Sunrise to Sunset
Nigel Borrington
Luke Kennard
The Water Replies
Maybe we have washed our hands
and drunk deep and swam
and think we know her,
but water’s reputation goes before her like a flood:
she does not suffer fools or gadflies.
Therefore I have prepared some questions.
Where do you get your ideas & your tide from?
Don’t say the moon – that’s really pretentious.
But as I clamber down the coast
I lose my footing and spend our allotted time
tossed around in her backwash,
pummelled by tiny stones.
When I am baptised I ask the water
Where have the demons gone?
Were they hiding behind the H, the 2 or the O?
I emerge finally able to see that I have not changed,
that I can of myself do nothing, that water decides.
On the towpath behind the church
I wring out my jacket. I ask the water:
Will you convey these thoughts away?
These itching hatreds, toothache of jealousy,
These squalid appetites and dog thirsts?
Just as far as the next city will do.
The ripples of the moon’s tablature.
When was the last time you cried, and why?
I ask the water. I ask the water:
Do you have plans later?
The Manor Farm, By Edward Thomas
On the Farm
Irish landscapes
Nigel Borrington
The rock-like mud unfroze a little and rills
Ran and sparkled down each side of the road
Under the catkins wagging in the hedge.
But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun;
Nor did I value that thin glilding beam
More than a pretty February thing
Till I came down to the old Manor Farm,
And church and yew-tree opposite, in age
Its equals and in size. The church and yew
And farmhouse slept slept in a Sunday silentness.
The air raised not a straw. The steep farm roof,
With tiles duskily glowing, entertained
The mid-day sun; and up and down the roof
White pigeons nestled. There was no sound but one.
Three cart-horses were looking over a gate
Drowsily through their forelocks, swishing their tails
Against a fly, a solitary fly.
The Winter’s cheek flushed as if he had drained
Spring, Summer, and Autumn at a drought
And smiled quietly. But ’twas not Winter—
Rather a season of bliss unchangeable
Awakened from farm and church where it had lain
Safe under tile and thatch for ages since
This country, Old already, was called Happy.
Edward Thomas
Three poems about sunlight …
Landscape in Sunlight
Nigel Borrington
Phoebe Hynes
Dec 5, 2016
A response to sunlight
You came to me in what I thought was a dream,
but it was actually the mundane,
and the secrets my conscious brain,
was keeping from me.
You were a part of reality all along,
it’s just taken me a bit to realize it.
Sunlight can be blinding,
and raindrops are more obvious.
Russell
May 7, 2016
The Filter of Sunlight
The drops of gold
Break through
The cover of leaves
I’m hiding behind
Peeking through
Touching me
Warming me
Making me realize
All the good
I’m hiding from
All the things
I should be happy about
The yellow rays
Burning the bad
Purifying my thoughts
Changing my mind
And I run out
Wanting to make a memory
Of this happy
Golden moment.
Ramisa R
Sep 25, 2014
Springtime Creativity
Lilacs bloom; birds sing
sunlight falls–
enlightening these
blank pages
Landscape drawing, Boolabrien lower, nier valley, county Waterford.
The view of
boolabrien lower
nier valley
ireland
nigel borrington
The Nire valley in county waterford offers some of the most amazing landscape views in the south east of Ireland, I used a Wacom MobileStudio Pro tablet to draw this sketch of one of my favorite positions, sitting on an old stone seat that looks across at the farm fields as they slowly make their way up into the hills above.
His Dream Of Skyland, A poem by : Li Po
His Dream Of Skyland
Nigel Borrington
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.
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.
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
The river Suir , county Tipperary
A winters morning
The river Suir
County Tipperary
February 2017
Nigel Borrington
A winters morning along the river Suir county Tipperary ….
February and while sometimes it can feel like spring is just around the corner, some mornings can be as cold the coldest the winter can offer here. With this cold weather can come some of the most stunning views of the season along the river banks here in the south of Ireland, frost and mist and the deep blue of a morning sky …..
A New Wind farm, Ballybeigh, county Kilkenny
The Mountain of Slievenamon
County Tipperary
Ireland
Nigel Borrington
Wind Farms, Love them or hate them ?
They must be one of the most controversial additions to the modern landscape, many like them but more people dislike and protests against their construction.
Here in Ireland, over the last decade or so we have seen a massive growth in their development with our landscape increasingly covered with them !!
My personal feelings are more neutral than some, I feel it has to be remembered that Ireland has few natural energy resources and sourcing them from around the world is expensive.
There are also much more damaging methods of creating energy than these modern windmills.
The area of the hills above Kilmanagh, county kilkenny is currently having two news wind farms developed, these images below show one of them. The image at the top of this post shows the views of the area before the development started, clearly very stunning!, yet I still find the construction of these massive towers more interesting than not.
Wind farms, I guess – they are always going to be loved and hated at the same time !!!
New wind farm, county Kilkenny
Nigel Borrington 
Happy St Patrick’s day, AN Irish Landscape and nature Gallery……
Happy St Patrick’s day to everyone 🙂
To celebrate this St Patrick’s day, I am sharing a very full collection of images from my Blog, all of them taken over the last couple of years or so. I feel they show this land, a small part of the European continent at its very best.
Ireland a St Patrick’s Day collection ….
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March 17, 2017 | Categories: Comment, Gallery, Irish Boglands, Irish rivers, irish woodlands, Landscape, Nature and Wildlife, Travel Locations | Tags: Europe, Ireland, Landscape, Nature, Nigel Borrington, ST patricks day | 13 Comments