Capturing the world with Photography, Painting and Drawing

Posts tagged “Irish hills

Irish Landscapes, Freedom of the Hills, Poem by : Douglas Fraser – 1968

Irish landscape images
County Waterford
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.”

Landscape in Sunlight
Nigel Borrington


Landscape from the Irish Hills and a Poem By : S. Weir Mitchell

A view from the Irish hills 5

Landscape from the Irish hills
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

The hills of the South east of Ireland are on of my favourite locations to wander and go for long walk, they are not as spectacular as the peaks of the Kerry mountains but there is a stillness here. Space to think and clear your mind and just walk and photograph the landscape.

I will let the words of the below poem say everything else for me, complimenting just how much I like these locations in the soft Irish hills.

S. Weir Mitchell

HERE have I wandered often these many years
Far from the world’s restraint, my heart at ease,
With equal liberty of joy or tears
To welcome Nature’s generosities,
Where these gray summits give the unburdened mind
To clearer thought, in freedom unconfined.

Kind to the dreamer is this solitude.
Fair courtesies of silence wait to know
What hopes are flattering a poet mood,
Stirred by frail ecstasies that come and go,
Like birds that let the quivering leaves prolong
The broken music of their passing song.

Here may we choose what company shall be ours;
Here bend before one fair divinity
To whose dear feet we bring the spirit-flowers,
Fragments of song, stray waifs of poetry,
The orphans of dead dreams, more sweet than aught
Won by decisive days of sober thought.

Landscape of the Irish hills a Gallery

A view from the Irish hills 1

A view from the Irish hills 2

A view from the Irish hills 3

A view from the Irish hills 4

A view from the Irish hills 6