The Sound of the Sea By : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Sound of the Sea
By : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep,
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain’s side,
Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep.
So comes to us at times, from the unknown
And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
Of things beyond our reason or control.
Sand Flesh and Sky, Poem By Clarence Major
Sand Flesh and Sky
By Clarence Major
Our ropes are the roots
of our life. We fish
low in the earth,
the river beneath runs through our veins,
blue and cold in a riverbed.
When the sun comes up,
the moon moves slowly to the left.
I tie the logs and limbs together,
holding them in place.
The ocean beats them
smooth like rock.
Here my sense of time is flat.
I find in a strip of damp sand
footprints and marks of hands,
and torn pieces of flesh.
Night is a beast.
The tide moves, gushing
back and forth.
Sunlight touches our faces,
turning us, turning us, turning us
in our morning sleep.
1976
5 images for the week , Monday.
Tramore Strand
County Waterford
Ireland
Nigel Borrington
Morning poetry : My fading dreams – an Island in the morning sea
Reality on an Island of dreams
Nigel Borrington
In those early moment as I awake
Visions of warm and gentle golden seas
a cool morning breeze.
Fading images of a island I do not know
Draining images of islands on which I want mind to stand.
An island that constantly haunts my dreams
particularly when reality falls apart at the seams.
An island in the spinning – turning sun.
An Island I long to understand
yet in the morning how far away its realty seems.
Can we only grasp life in our dreams
it slips through our fingers at the light of dawn.
you fade away and now are gone.
I walk along this beach
hot melted glass and cool flowing gasses meet.
Come tonight when I watch the setting of the sun
and wonder if on my Island of dreams, again a clear vision will come?
Nigel …..
Beach Poetry : I Saw From the Beach by Thomas Moore
I Saw From the Beach
by Thomas Moore
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o’er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o’er that beach was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
And such is the fate of our life’s early promise,
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known;
Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us,
And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone.
Oh, who would not welcome that moment’s returning
When passion first waked a new life through his frame,
And his soul, like the wood that grows precious in burning,
Gave out all its sweets to love’s exquisite flame.
Nikon AF-d 50mm f1.4 Prime lens, one lens all day …..
Tramore Strand
One lens all day
Nikon AF-d 50mm f1.4
Nigel Borrington
Irish Landscapes
Its easy to think that the best lens to spend a full day of Photography with would be a zoom lens, however my favorite and most respected lenses are all prime lenses(fixed focus lenght lenses).
One of my most respected and trusted lens is my Nikon 50mm f1.4, its fast , can work very well in low light and even at 75mm on my DX D7200 body (50mm on an FX) it makes me think in a very creative way. You have to frame you shots well before you click the shutter button, I find this much more creative that just walking around and zooming in and out at everything 🙂 although this can be a very fun experience.
While you need a zoom lens in order to make sure you can capture some subjects, Prime lenses make you think about the subject you want to capture!
So what kind of images can you produce if you only take one lens with you , A 50mm Prime?
Nikon AF-d 50mm f1.4 Gallery
These images from yesterday include a morning walk and then an evening walking alone the strand at Tramore, County Waterford
Monday Poetry : The Harbour, by: Winifred Mary Letts
The Harbour, Poem By Winifred Mary Letts Nigel Borrington
The Harbour, Poem
By : Winifred Mary Letts
I think if I lay dying in some land
Where Ireland is no more than just a name,
My soul would travel back to find that strand
From whence it came.
I’d see the harbour in the evening light,
The old men staring at some distant ship,
The fishing boats they fasten left and right
Beside the slip.
The fishing boat rests along the shore,
The grey thorn bushes growing in the sand,
Our Wexford coast from Arklow to Cahore –
My native land.
The little houses climbing up the hill
Sea daises growing in the sandy grass,
The tethered goats that wait large -eyed and still
To watch you pass.
The women at the well with dripping pails,
Their men colloguing by the harbour wall,
The coils of rope, the nets, the old brown sails,
I’d know them all.
And then the sun- I’d surely see
The disk against a golden sky.
Would let me be at my rest.
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.
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
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?
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
2 hour painting, The town of Allihies west cork, Ireland
Allihies copper Mines and town
Irish landscape painting
Nigel Borrington
Allihies in west county cork is one of my favorite locations to visit in Ireland.
The town is located at the far end of the Béara Peninsula, west cork, the landscape scenery here is just stunning. The town itself is about as remote as it gets in this part of the world. There are many coastal walks along with paths that wind through the hills. The town is also well known for its copper mining history with many of the old mines still standing in the hills acting as a backdrop for the town.
There is a museum that you can visit details here : Allihies copper mine visitors center
My painting / sketch here was painted digitally using a combination of PC applications and taken from some sketches and photos I came home with on the return from my last visit.
Happy Christmas and New year to everyone ! .. A 2016 Gallery
January 2016
Happy Christmas and a happy new year for 2017 to everyone 🙂
Todays post is my last for the year, I want to spend sometime off line with my family for the holidays.
I also want to say a very big thank you for such a great 2016 to everyone here in the word-press community, it has been great fun sharing posts with you all and reading your own posts!!!, its a great thrill to know so many great people and blogger’s here !!
Have a great Christmas time and a wonderful new year period, I look forward to sharing some on-line time with you all again in January 2017 – 🙂 🙂 🙂
A gallery of images from 2016
January 2016
February 2016
March 2016
April 2016
May 2016
June 2016
July 2016
August 2016
September 2016
October 2016
November 2016
December 2016
A Sketch of two fishing boats, Keem Strand, Achill Island, Co. Mayo
Two fishing boat
Keem Strand
Achill Island
County Mayo
A sketch of the old farm house, Keem Strand, Achill island, County Mayo
Old Farm house
Keem Strand
Achill Island
county Mayo
Nigel Borrington
Created using a Wacom Mobile Studio table …..
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. A poem by: Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Images of Banna Strand, Kerry, Ireland
Banna Strand,
Tralee Bay,
Irish Landscape Photography,
Nigel Borrington
From “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The “Rime“ is one of the greatest pieces of Romantic literature. And the section of this epic poem in which the dead sailors get up and start sailing the boat again without seeing anything is as terrifying as anything in the horror genre.
The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The Moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.
The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the Moon
The dead men gave a groan.
They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.
The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The mariners all ‘gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do;
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools—
We were a ghastly crew.
The body of my brother’s son
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me.
‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner!’
Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!
‘Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corpses came again,
But a troop of spirits ablest:
For when it dawned—they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.
Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.
Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the sky-lark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!
And now ’twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel’s song,
That makes the heavens be mute.
It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.
Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.
The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she ‘gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion—
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.
Three Poems about the Beach
Sandy Beaches
Morgan Swain
Sprinkle, squish between my toes,
The smell of ocean to my nose.
I can feel each grain of sand,
It falls from air into my hand.
The shells I find along the shore,
Picked up by birds that fly and soar.
They sparkle like the ocean’s waves,
And carry sand from all the lakes.
I walk along the tip of the sea,
That’s where my feet leave prints to be.
I walk all the way to the end of the land,
The land that holds this beautiful sand.
The Sensations of Summer
Sibel
As I lay on the sand
And look up at the sky
I can see the sun shining like a diamond up high
The whooshing waves wash endlessly upon the shore
These are the sensations of summer that I adore
Nothing could replace this moment
Not anything
I pick myself up
Step in to the sea
Forget all my thoughts so my mind is free
As all my troubles drift away from me
I go deeper into the rushing water, letting the waves take control
These are the sensations of summer that I adore
The Beach
Amy R. Buzil
It’s a day when the ocean waves whisper to the sun:
‘Warm me up sunshine!’
And they try to throw their rays
right at me,
painting my white skin
into a golden tan.
The fingertip of the wind
brushs against my left cheek.
The clouds try hard not to move.
I see them
crawling inch by inch.
I Look down at my toes;
the hot pink nail polish;
sinks into the warm sand
the grains adjust to my movement.
Rough.
I gaze out into the water
shining like cherry-flavored lip gloss
and diamonds held in a blue blanket.
I lean back into the pinkbluepurple of the wind,
where it leaves a colorful touch on my arm
and I feel as I could blow away
at any time..
Welcome to the Deise Greenway, County Waterford
The Deise Greenway
County Waterford
Ireland
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
The Waterford / Deise Greenway
The Amazing new Deise Greenway is almost completed and for anyone who has not heard about this new public cycle and walking path in county Waterford Ireland, here is some basic information !
The History of the Greenway – A Railway history
Waterford to Dungarvan
The Railway Line from Dungarvan to Waterford was constructed during the 1870’s and was officially opened on the 12th August 1878 with the first train departing Waterford at 10.10 and arriving at Durrow just over an hour later.
The building of the Railway was a remarkable project in that it had to be contructed over very harsh terrain. From the Dungarvan side, two causeways had to be contructed, one over the Colligan estuary and one through the sea at Barnawee, a very impressive viaduct has to be built at Ballyvoile and an even more impressive tunnel, 480 yards long, fully lined was constructed just a little further down the line. Another viaduct at Kilminnion and an almost 100 feet high curved viaduct at Kilmacthomas to name just a few. It headed down towards the lovely station at Kilmeaden and then on the riverbank of the River Suir below Mount Congreve into Waterford City.
The Railway line was not just of national importance, it was also our line with the UK with many Irish people emigrating there but many used it to come over and back. In March 1967, the last passenger train left Dungarvan station for Rosslare. But it reopened again with the opening of the Magnesite ore processing plant at Ballinacourty but this plant closed in 1982. Engineers ran occasional locomotives on the line up until 1990.
CIE own the line but Waterford County Council acquired a license from them at the start of this century to make it into a pedestrian walkway/cycle path for tourism and leisure.
It has impressive history, a history we can not neglect by not taking an interest in the line, we need to preserve it for the people as an amenity for the people.
Rebirth of the rail line – The Deise Greenway
The Deise Greenway is almost complete so last weekend we took a walk along the section from Ballyvoyle brick-lined tunnel down to Dungarvan Bay. This section of the route is just fantastic to walk as it induces the Ballyvoyal tunnel and viaduct and then the wonderful views of the waterford coastline above the town of Dungarvan.
Below are some of the pictures I took on Sunday ……
Gallery
Mountain Poetry, Ride the foothills by : Denel Kessler
Foothills of Slievenamon
Irish Landscape images
Nigel Borrington
Denel Kessler
Chinook Skies
cobalt rain
rides the foothills
mountains conspire
in malevolent
cloud lairs
beneath gray waters
she treads
the warming sea
in constant current
scaled desire
burnished crimson
silver sleek
with ripened need
she lives to die
upstream
House By The Sea – Poem by N Nobu
House By The Sea – Poem by N Nobu
They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she.
Where sun sheltered
from the waning moon
myriads of stars
and the lightning beams.
They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she.
Where fireflies lit the sky
crickets sang nearby
and gentle waves kissed
the golden sands goodbye.
They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she.
Fought a little, talked a lot
danced with the breeze
cherishing moment of
bliss and peace.
They lived
in a house by the sea
he and she
.
She stooped a little
he antiqued a bit
there vision dimmed
with every passing cloud.
She died
In a house by the sea.
Mermaids tell he never cried
for he knew
Lovers never die
and she awaits otherside
where sea meets the sky…..
Irish landscape photography : A weekend in the Landscape.
Its the weekend so why not get outside and see the places you always wanted to !
Have a great weekend whatever your doing 🙂
Nigel Borrington 
Loop Head Lighthouse, county Clare, Ireland
Loop Head Lighthouse,
September 2017,
county Clare, Ireland
Nigel Borrington
Loop Head Lighthouse, county Clare, Ireland
I have just spent a few days visiting County Clare, west Ireland, finishing with a visit to the great Loophead lighhouse. As you can see the day was very typical for a Septembers day here in Ireland, wet and windy.
It was still possible to visit the top of the lighthouse however which was great fun in the strong breeze.
I have very much enjoyed visiting some of Ireland’s lighthouses over the years from the north coast down to Hookhead, on the south coast, these remote location with their lighthouse keepers buildings that would have been both a place of work and a home, all year around and in all weather conditions, are a great reminder of the past.
A past that has almost gone but can in places like these still be felt very strongly.
Sometime back I found this video and have shared it before with other lighthouse posts, its still very much worth sharing again however as it reflects on the family life’s of Ireland’s lighthouse keepers …..
Here is a little history of the Loophead lighthouse
History
The first lighthouse on Loophead was one of four known Irish stone vaulted cottage type lights built about 1670. These cottages accommodated the lightkeeper and his family in two or three rooms and had an internal stone stairway between two of the rooms leading up to a platform on the roof where a coal burning brazier or chauffer was positioned. Part of the old cottage with its battered outside wall can still be seen near the lightkeepers’ dwellings.
The light must have fallen into disuse towards the end of the 17th century because it was re-established in 1720 after aldermen and merchants of Limerick petitioned the Irish Parliament in 1717 for a light on the Head.
The cottage-lighthouse with its coal fire was replaced in 1802 by a more conventional lighthouse, built by Thomas Rogers, who was also the contractor. The tower was about the same height as the present tower with four rooms and a lantern. The ground floor room was an oil store and access to the first floor or entrance room by an outside staircase of 19 steps. An internal spiral staircase connected the other two rooms and lantern. The twelve-foot diameter lantern contained twelve oil lamps, each with its own concave parabolic reflector. The reflected light shone through a 22″ diameter convex lens of solid glass, not unlike the ‘bottle glass’ or “bulls-eye” fitted into windows of modern psuedo-Georgian houses.
By 1811 the keeper was living in an adjoining cottage, rather than in the tower.
More …..
Loop Head Lighthouse, county Clare, Ireland , Gallery
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September 19, 2017 | Categories: Comment, Forgotten places, History, Irish coastline, irish history, Landscape, Story telling gallery, Travel Locations | Tags: county Clare, History, Ireland, Irish coast, irish history, Lighthouse, Loop Head Lighthouse, Nigel Borrington | 4 Comments