A misty day , A poem By : Paul Laurence Dunbar
A Misty Day
A Misty Morning on Glencommon hill, County Kilkenny
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
A Misty Day
By : Paul Laurence Dunbar
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
The mist hangs low o’er the wooded hill,
The soft white mist and the heavy cloud
The sun and the face of heaven shroud.
The birds are thick in the dripping trees,
That drop their pearls to the beggar breeze;
No songs are rife where songs are wont,
Each singer crouches in his haunt.
.
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
Whene’er thy loving voice is still,
The cloud and mist hide the sky from me,
Whene’er thy face I cannot see.
.
My thoughts fly back from the chill without,
My mind in the storm drops doubt on doubt,
No songs arise. Without thee, love,
My soul sinks down like a frightened dove.
The Pond, By Amy Lowell
The Pond on the hill, Glencommon, County Tipperary
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
The Pond
By Amy Lowell
Cold, wet leaves
Floating on moss-coloured water
And the croaking of frogs—
Cracked bell-notes in the twilight.
As river flows, Poem by Peter Duggan.
A walk along the river Suir , County Tipperary
Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
As River flows.
By : Peter Duggan
As river flows so peacefully
I sit here just content to be
As Ravens fly so high above
This morning, it was made for love
It enters deep into my soul
It’s sweetness making me so whole
This softest morning mystery
Oh, how it reaches out to me
The trees, they dance so gracefully
They wave, and flow upon the breeze
Bird song drifts from happy branches
Oh lord, how this my heart enhances
Silence rules above all this
A kind of stillness filled with bliss
Captivates my very core
Oh, I’d not wish for any more.
The river peaceful, calm and still
So wonderful it makes me feel
As it reflects those dancing trees
I watch and let the morning breeze
Caress my skin so tenderly
Then all is gone, there’s only me
The emptiness of all that is
I’m sailing on the waves of bliss.
River Suir Image Gallery
May day Butterfly, Poem : A Butterfly Message, By Kathy Mitchell
May day butterfly
Nature Photography : Nigel Borrington
A Butterfly Message
Kathy Mitchell
The weight of a Butterfly
The beauty of colours
The wings of freedom
Could never be forgotten
As we lift the weight
We create.
Glow with colour
Attract the good
Spread our wings
As we too can be free
Live like a Butterfly
For your wishes
Will be……
Freedom of the Hills, Poem by : Douglas Fraser – 1968
Freedom On The foothills of Slievenamon, County Tipperary
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Freedom of the Hills
By: Douglas Fraser – 1968
Mine is the freedom of the tranquil hills
When vagrant breezes bend the sinewy grass,
While sunshine on the widespread landscape spills
And light as down the fleet cloud-shadowed pass.
Mine, still, that freedom when the storm-clouds race,
Cracking their whips against defiant crags
And mists swirl boiling up from inky space
To vanish on the instant, torn to rags.
.
When winter grips the mountains in a vice,
Silently stifling with its pall of snow,
Checking the streams, draping the rocks in ice,
Still to their mantled summits I would go.
Sun-drenched, I sense the message they impart;
Storm-lashed, I hear it sing through every vein;
Among the snows it whispers to my heart
“Here is your freedom. Taste – and come again.”
The first spring Primrose on the river Lingaun
Primrose along the river Lingaun
Nature Photography : Nigel Borrington
At the end of June 2013 I posted about the “last of the Primrose” , well its hard to believe that its a full year since the first Primrose’s flowered in 2013 but these wonderful little river bank flowers are back again.
These Primrose grow beside the banks of the river Linguan as it works its way down towards the river suir, at Carrick -on-suir. I take Molly our golden retriever here for a swim in the rock pools, its a perfect place on a spring day.
I found the following information about Primrose’s :
Botanical Information
Primrose Flowers
Primroses grow on shady river banks, and in woods and hedges and are common in Ireland. The characteristic rosette of green crinkled leaves appears first in March. The flowers then come up on individual stalks and open in the month of April. The flowers have five pale yellow petals.
In some flowers the stems are very long and the centre is small – these are called thrum flowers. If on the other hand you are looking at a flower with very short stem, it is called a pin flower.
They are perennial flowers, which means that they survive from year to year and grow again every Spring without having to be planted.
Folklore
Primroses were very important to farmers long ago for their cows. The butter-making season began in May and in order to be sure that the cows would produce lots of milk for butter, primroses were rubbed on their udders. In other houses primroses were scattered on the thresholds of houses before dawn on May day to protect the butter from the fairies.
Primroses were also associated with hens and the laying of eggs. It was considered unlucky to bring primroses into the house if eggs were being hatched there.
Primroses were often gathered and given as a gift. However it was considered to be very unlucky to give just a single primrose, whereas a very full bunch would be a protection against evil spirits.
Primroses bloomed in Tír na nÓg and people returning from there in the old Irish legends always brought primroses as proof that they had been there.
In folk medicine, rubbing a toothache with a primrose leaf for two minutes would give relief from the pain. It was also widely used as a cure for jaundice.
Poem
What is a Primrose?
To the question, “what is a primrose?”
There are several valid answers
One person says,
“A primrose by the river´s brim”
A yellow plant was to him, just that.
Nothing more.
Another, a scientist, says,
“A primrose is a delicately balanced
Biochemical mechanism requiring
Potash, phosphates, nitrogen and water
In definite proportions”
A third person says they are,
“Primrose of spring from the gods”
All these statements are true.
Primrose along the river Lingaun, Gallery
The Children of Lir
Swans at Haywood house Gardens
Nature and Wildlife photography : Nigel Borrington
The Children of Lir is a very old Irish legend. The original Irish title is “Clann Lir or Leanaí Lir”, but Lir is the genitive case of Lear. Lir is more often used as the name of the character in English. The legend is part of the Irish Mythological Cycle, which consists of numerous prose tales and poems found in medieval manuscripts.
The Children of Lir
Long ago there lived a king called Lir. He lived with his wife and four children: Fionnuala, Aodh, Fiachra and Conn. They lived in a castle in the middle of a forest. When Lir’s wife died they were all very sad. After a few years Lir got married again. He married a jealous wife called Aoife.
Aoife thought that Lir loved his children more than he loved her. Aoife hated the children. Soon she thought of a plan to get rid of the children.
One summer’s day Aoife took the children to swim in a lake near the castle. The children were really happy to be playing in the water. Suddenly Aoife took out a magic wand. There was a flash of light and the children were nowhere to be seen. All there was to be seen was four beautiful swans, with their feathers as white as snow.
Aoife said, “I have put you under a spell. You will be swans for nine hundred years,” she cackled. “You will spend three hundred years in Lough Derravaragh, three hundred years in the Sea of Moyle and three hundred years in the waters of Inish Glora,” Aoife said. She also said, “You will remain swans for nine hundred years until you hear the ring of a Christian bell.”
She went back to the castle and told Lir that his children had drowned. Lir was so sad he started crying. He rushed down to the lake and saw no children. He saw only four beautiful swans.
One of them spoke to him. It was Fionnuala who spoke to him. She told him what Aoife had done to them. Lir got very angry and turned Aoife into an ugly moth. When Lir died the children were very sad. When the time came they moved to the Sea of Moyle.
Soon the time came for their final journey. When they reached Inish Glora they were very tired. Early one morning they heard the sound of a Christian bell. They were so happy that they were human again. The monk (some even say it was St. Patrick himself) sprinkled holy water on them and then Fionnuala put her arms around her brothers and then the four of them fell on the ground. The monk buried them in one grave. That night he dreamed he saw four swans flying up through the clouds. He knew the children of Lir were with their mother and father.
Damselfly, Poem by : Sara Nummenpää
A Damselfly along the Kings river,
County Kilkenny,
Nature and Wildlife Photography : Nigel Borrington
Damselfly
By : Sara Nummenpää
you’ve swept me away
in your rivers,
completely.
do you know you steal my breath?
I can’t help it, I surrender
to you, so
surround me, encompass me,
cover me with your skin,
your flesh and wings;
lead me, I know you can.
lead me,
for just a while, and
I’ll lead you,
follow you,
until you find
what you are looking for.
.
I am yours to break.
and if you ever want
to forget me for a while,
to lead me no longer –
that is okay,
for you’ve loved me once,
and that is enough.
Kilmogue Portal Tomb, six thousand year of age.
Kilmogue Portal Tomb, county KIlkenny
Irish Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
Kilmogue Portal Tomb
Sitting at the end of a short path near Harristown, county kilkenny, is a six thousand year old tomb, know nationally at the Kilmogue Portal Tomb but locally as, “Leac an Scail” – stone of the warrior/hero in English.
I have visited the site many times and I still find it an amazing location, the site has a sign placed near it that you can see below. It clearly states that the site has never been officially excavated, as is the case for many of these locations in Ireland. From evidence of Tombs constructed in exactly the same way around the European continent it is thought to be some six thousand years old. To put this in context , the great pyramids in Egypt were constructed around 2560 BC, so this tomb is some 1500 years older.
The tomb is constructed with a very large cap stone and side walls and it is hard to imagine just how the cap stone was lifted into place. The stones that can still be witnessed here would however have been surround by a mount of earth that has been long removed or washed away by six thousand years of rain. This earth mount would have been large maybe some 20 meters in diameter. It was likely then that the walls of the tomb were put in place first and supported with wood, then the earth mound constructed and finally the large cap stone rolled up the sides into its place and covered with more earth on top.
It is not known who’s tomb this was but the person buried here must have been considered very important in this Neolithic community, and the tomb would have acted as a place of memory for them and as was the tradition at the time the community would have held ceremonies here.
Each time I have visited I wonder just what these people where like, they were clearly pagan in their beliefs and very close to their surroundings and its nature. Life would have been completely different from the life we know, they lived and moved to the cycles of the seasons, they eat and lived from the wildlife and nature that surrounded them, in some season they would have little food. They most likely had Gods and figure heads yet we have a tendency to place our own modern religious understanding on-to what this meant to them.
It is likely that their Gods were Mythical in nature and derived from memories of real people who Mythically they created with different elements and forces of life and nature that affected the lives they lived.
List wikipedia page lists some of these Gods and Goddesses and shows the forces in life and nature that they related to.
I hope that the images below relate the Tomb and its location, the surrounding Landscape is very rural and one of county Kilkennys biggest dairy farming areas.
Leac an Scail, Image Gallery
The Passage tomb of (Olioll Olum), King of Munster
The Passage Tomb of , Olioll Olum ( Died 234), Galbally Limerick
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Irish Passage Tombs
Located on the side of Duntryleague Hill, County Limerick and the westerly extension of Slievenamuc hill is a passage tomb. The Tomb was constructed for Olioll Olum, one of the early Kings of Munster.
The name Duntryleague is derived from Dún-Trí-Liag, meaning the fort of three pillar stones. Diarmuid and Gráinne are also said to have rested here in their flight from the angry Fionn Mac CumhaillWell.
The route through the forest leading to the burial ground is accessible and leads to this amazing rock structure of the tomb. There is one enormous rock slab resting steadily across a number of famous cairns which measures approximately 25m north -south and 22m east-west. Continuing on from the cairn you come across many natural viewing points which extend over the terrain of west Limerick.
Olioll Olum, was a King of Munster, who died in 234, he is said to have been progenitor of most of the great families of the south of Ireland. He married Sabia, daughter of Con of the Hundred Battles, ruler of the north of Ireland.
He willed that after his death the sovereignty of Munster should vest alternately in the descendants of his son Eoghan Mor (the Eugenians, or Eoganachts, occupying the southern part of Munster), and those of his son Cormac Cas (the Dalcassians, occupying the northern part of the same province).
The images below include some landscapes of the surrounding mountains, this is not a bad place to be laid to rest.
Gallery of a Passage Tomb
In a Sleepy Hollow, Wild Sorrel grows
Wild woodland Sorrel, Glenbower, Owning, county kilkenny
Irish Nature photography Nigel Borrington
In a Sleepy Hollow, Wild Sorrel grows
Glenbower woodlands is located near the village of owning in the south of county Kilkenn. In the middle of the wood is located a deep and very sleepy hollow, in winter the hollow is covered in fallen leaves from the trees that are located on the very edges of cliffs above.
Spring time however brings new life with fox dens located in the cliffs and a carpet of ferns and Wild woodland Sorrel with its many white and purple flowers.
Sorrel is found carpeting many Irish old, undisturbed woodlands in spring, this pretty downy perennial also grows on moss-covered trees and shady stone walls and is widespread throughout the country.
Each pretty white flower has five petals, bell-shaped some (10 – 15 mm), held on a stem which comes directly from the roots. The petals are lined with a tracery of purple veins through to the golden centre of the flower. The three petalled heart-shaped leafs fold up towards late afternoon or in rain as do the fragile flowers.
They Can be eaten and have a sharp taste of oxalic acid, wonderful with salads and as a garnish. The flowers blooms from April to June.
Wild Sorrel is a native plant to Ireland and belongs to the family Oxalidaceae.
Sleepy Hollow Image Gallery
This morning Light , a Poem
Morning Landscape, County Tipperary
Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
Tuesday and the Easter holiday weekend is over , I went for an early morning walk and was trying my best to plan the week ahead. Failing in most respects however. I found myself lost in the morning and distracted by just how wonderful the soft light was, we had a light covering of cloud and it resulted in some wonderful light and colours across the fields and woods.
Still a little frustrated as I sat at my desk, I decided to write down some words and share them in a post along with some images I took along my morning walk.
The morning of Tuesday 22nd April 2014.
This morning light
When first morning light comes to reveal the landscape,
There are many thoughts that I ponder in my mind,
last nights dreams fading away.
This mornings sounds should give a clue,
If I could only remember what it is I need to do,
I know it came to me last night, fading fast into the morning light
I walk on past these fields covered in soft light,
What was that dreams I had last night,
Completely gone and washed away,
Taken into yet another day.
Morning Landscapes
Easter Sunday on the Mountain of Slievenamon
Easter Sunday on Slievenamon, county Tipperary
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Happy Easter to everyone.
The great Easter holiday weather in our part of Ireland has finally broken with rain this evening for the first time in about two weeks, we had a wonderful morning however as the sky was blue and clear and the sun rise was wonderful.
One thing I love to do on an Easter Sunday is to get outside an experience our local landscape, This morning setting off to walk up Slievenamon our local mountain about 10km from home, many people had the same idea and it was great to meet and say hello to people doing their first big hill walk of the Summer.
The Images below I hope go a little way to sharing the landscape and views from this wonderful mountain, They include some images of the Burial cairn at the very summit of Slievenamon.
Happy Easter !!
Easter Sunday on SLievenamon : Gallery
Easter (Ostara) Saturday local walk’s – Kilkenny Landscape Gallery
Kilkenny Landscape Images
Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
It’s Easter Saturday and the weather is still wonderful here in Kilkenny, It is a great feeling to be able to walk down the country lanes and get some great views of our local landscapes.
The Cattle are all out of the sheds for the summer and colour has returned to the fields.
The below Gallery are some images taken this morning on a walk around our local area.
Kilkenny Landscape Gallery
Easter (Ostara) Friday at the beach.
Dunmore east, County Waterford, Ireland
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
The Easter weekend is traditionally to first weekend of warm summer days here in Ireland, its a great time to get out and about and what better place than going down to the beach.
With a population of only 4.3 Million the beaches are never to full at this time of year, yet the weather can be very good. The images in this post were taken this Morning at the small fishing town of Dunmore east and the near by beach of Forenaught, a small and private little place that’s great for a morning swim.
Image Gallery
Easter (Ostara) time and the, Hawthorn Flowers
Crataegus monogyna, Common hawthorn, County Kilkenny
Nature Photography : Nigel Borrington
Easter(Ostara) time and Hawthorn flowers
In my last post I hinted that I was going to take a little time off over the Easter holidays, sometime away from my phone or laptop and get outside as much as possible, its spring time here and after all our winter storms the landscape is returning to life with colour and wildlife in full flow.
Yesterday I took some time to do some long walks, just myself and Molly our Golden retriever, around many of county Kilkenny’s paths and country lanes.
Each Easter here one of the first signs of Spring and Summer is the Hawthorn flowers, Hawthorn is a very popular form of hedging in the county and all the road side and field hedges turn to white as the flowers bloom.
The images here I hope show just how white and full these flowers are, its a wonderful sight each year and really lets you know that summer is only just around the corner..
Hawthorn Flowers : Gallery
Easter (Ostara) Holidays in the Landscape.
Easter Holidays in the Irish Landscape
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Easter (Ostara)
Easter to many Christians marks a religious holiday and the two weeks around Easter weekend is traditionally a Holiday time.
Before the Christian tradition however it was still marked as Ostara by the Pagan world, marking a time of rebirth and new life, Life has returned to the landscape with new growth and natural foods available. Wild life is on the move again starting to make plans for a new breeding season, finding foods themselves and getting to put some much needed body weight back on.
Over the next two weeks I want to get out and capture these changes, as the march towards the summer months feels ever closer and closer.
Image Gallery
Where Go the Boats, A river Poem
Boats on the river Suir, County Tipperary
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Where Go the Boats?
Dark blue is the river.
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating—
Where will all come home?
.
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore
.
Robert Louis, Stevenson
Walking through a field at Coolehill , images with a poem
Coolehill, Windgap, County Kilkenny
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Walking across a field at Coolehill
Walking across the fields of Coolehill,
Ash, Briar, hawthorn, holly, and hazel
A wall around the field that your in.
.
Above you
is a big blue sky, with its layers of soft clouds,
held up by the rows of oaks.
A sheltered patch of sunshine:
.
I stop
and stand in silence
and close your eyes
and feel the warmth on your face,
whilst a blackbird sings.
inspired by Holbury Lane, Lockerley
The Grand Union Canal, Walking through time.
Grand Union canal, Harefield, Hillingdon, London, England.
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Grand Union canal, Harefield (1988 to 2014)
Up until some 18 years ago I lived and worked in Harrow , Middlesex, North London. Working in the IT industry with long hours and shift work included. I really Valued my time off and would spend a lot of my weekends out walking in the country around North London. The Grand Union Canal was one of my most visited locations , it runs from Inner London to Birmingham in the Midlands of the UK.
Recently I took some time off to visit the Canal again after some twenty six years, It was great after all this time to get back and walk some old steps, I had no idea what could have changed. When I got back I remembered that I must have some old images taken during my original walks here.
So when I got back home to Ireland, I found some black and white images of an old canal side factory that marked the start of my walks, the images below show just how little the building has changed. It looks like it is just used for smaller office units these days but apart from this, its still very much looks like the place in my film images.
It was great to walk these old places, I have very good memories of walking and doing my best to relax after a long working week and to get a fresh image of the old canal in my mind was just great.
Film Gallery (1988), using a Nikon FM2 and Ilford XP2 Black and white film
.
Digital Gallery (2014), using a Fujifilm X100.
Oweynagcat cave,County Roscommon , Into the Underworld.
Oweynagat caves, County Roscommon
Landscape Photography Nigel Borrington
Oweynagat Cave
Oweynagat or the ‘Cave of Cats’ has to be one of the more unusual and unique sites in Ireland. The cave features a souterrain with a lintel supporting the entrance but then leads into a naturally formed cave. Oweynagat features heavily in Irish mythology, mainly because of its placement near Queen Medb’s fort which was at the center of the ancient Connaught capital of ‘Cruachan‘. The cave was said to be the actual birthplace of Queen Medb herself, the story goes that a goddess and fairy queen named Étain was fleeing her human husband with her fairy lover Midir. Midir wished to visit a relative named Sinech (meaning ‘large-breasted one’) who lived in the cave, the cave was said to be a great palace in the other-world and a maidservant named Crochan Crogderg (meaning ‘blood-red cup’) became enamoured with the place. She was granted the cave by Étian and it was here at Crochan gave birth to a daughter, Medb.
Many different myths from the lifetime of Medb surround the cave, it was said to have served as a portal through which the Goddess Morrigan used to pass to the other-world Morrigan was the goddess of battle and strive and was said to drive her other-world cattle into the cave at Oweynagat each sunset. Once Morrigan was said to have stolen the herds of a girl named Odras and brought them with her to the other-world, Odras tried to follow Morrigan but the unfortunate girl was turned into a lake by the goddess.
Another mention of the cave of the cats features one of Medb’s male servants Nera who had met a fairy woman in the cave and married her. His fairy bride warned that Medb’s palace would be burnt to the ground the following Samhain (November 1st) by creatures from the other-world , with this Medb stationed all her forces in the cave at Samhain to protect Cruachan from utter destruction.
The cave continued to be known as a place of power, acting as a portal to the other-world its power was extremely pronounced near Samhain as this was when the veil between the worlds lessened. Another story relates to the ‘Ellen Trechen’, this was a three headed monster that emerged from the cave and ravaged the local countryside before being killed by the Ulaid poet and hero Amergin.
As Christianity took hold in Ireland the belief in the cave being a ‘gateway to hell’ grew, an 18th century religious text describes Oweynagat as the ‘hell-mouth of Ireland’. It was believed that Oweynagat was linked to another ’hell-mouth’ many kilometres away at the Kesh Corran .
Oweynagcat cave, Gallery
The Blackbird, A Poem by : William Ernest Henley.
A Blackbird, in a kilkenny woodland.
Wildlife photography : Nigel Borrington
The Blackbird
By : William Ernest Henley.
The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark’s is a clarion call,
And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute,
But I love him best of all.
For his song is all of the joy of life,
And we in the mad, spring weather,
We two have listened till he sang
Our hearts and lips together.
Yellow summer daisies, by : Robert Graves
Yellow summer daisies
Nature Photography : Nigel Borrington
Summer Daisies
Summer daisies, they’re my flowers,
Which nobody else may grow.
In a big quarrelsome house like ours
They try it sometimes—but no,
I root them up because they’re my flowers,
Which nobody else may grow.
Claire has a tea-rose, but she didn’t plant it;
Ben has an iris, but I don’t want it.
Daisies, double Yellow daisies for me,
The beautiful-est flowers in the garden.
The summer daisy, that’s my mark:
I paint it in all my books!
It’s carved high up on the beech-tree bark,
How neat and lovely it looks!
So don’t forget that it’s my trade mark;
Don’t copy it in your books.
Claire has a tea-rose, but she didn’t plant it;
Ben has an iris, but I don’t want it.
Daisies, yellow daisies for me,
The beautiful-est flowers in the garden.
By : Robert Graves
Nigel Borrington
A day at Ballybunion beach, a Poem
Ballybunion beach, county Kerry, Ireland
Landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
One day last summer while I was walking along the beach at Ballybunion,county Kerry, I was trying to think of words that gave a sense of this place , so I jotted down the following word list for a poem, but I feel its a poem as it is.
Ballybunion beach
cool air, sound of sea birds, fresh breeze,
people walking, dogs running, cold swimmers, children shouting,
Waves rolling, people eating, chatting, talking, cliffs casting shadows,
Old castle walls dominating, caves temping you to explore,
Posters offering family photographs, lunch time meals and places to shop,
Restful moments , capturing views,
Old people pottering, memories of traditions past,
Time dragging to a stop, mind slowing,
Families gathering, men managing, car doors shutting, keys locking, after parking,
deep breaths taken, locations chosen, bags unpacked,
People now sitting, grannies talking, best instructions, suggestions given,
Steps taken, shoes in hand,
Temperature falling, evening calling, holiday homes inviting,
Beach clearing, winds rising, cold setting in,
Sea birds return, dogs last walk of the day
Night fisher man setting lines, day over
Peace and nature returning, tide rising,
On Ballybunion beach.
April 7, 2014 | Categories: Comment, Gallery, Landscape, Poetry Gallery, Travel Locations | Tags: a sense of place, Ballybunion, Ballybunion beach, county kerry, Ireland, Irish photography, Nigel Borrington, poem, poetry, word list | 21 Comments