Molly is our 12 and 1/2 year old Golden retriever and she loves nothing more than being in and around water – as often as she can !!! Rivers, Lakes, and the Sea. I often think that if it was not for her I would not have visited as many wonderful places here in Ireland, just trying to keep her walked and fit!!!, but being over 12 years old now, she has slowed down a little but still loves her swimming and coastal visits.
I also love visiting the Irish coastline, our nearest locations are along the county Waterford coast, with its rocky small coves and caves its just a perfect and dramatic coastline in many ways.
October is a great month for these visits as the mornings bring rolling in sea mists and dramatic waves as the temperatures slide slowly into the winter months …..
A walk along the Waterford coast line : Gallery
WHEN THE FISHING BOATS GO OUT
By L. M. Montgomery
WHEN the lucent skies of morning flush with dawning rose once more,
And waves of golden glory break adown the sunrise shore,
And o’er the arch of heaven pied films of vapor float.
There’s joyance and there’s freedom when the fishing boats go out.
The wind is blowing freshly up from far, uncharted caves,
And sending sparkling kisses o’er the brows of virgin waves,
While routed dawn-mists shiver–oh, far and fast they flee,
Pierced by the shafts of sunrise athwart the merry sea!
Behind us, fair, light-smitten hills in dappled splendor lie,
Before us the wide ocean runs to meet the limpid sky–
Our hearts are full of poignant life, and care has fled afar
As sweeps the white-winged fishing fleet across the harbor bar.
The sea is calling to us in a blithesome voice and free,
There’s keenest rapture on its breast and boundless liberty!
Each man is master of his craft, its gleaming sails out-blown,
And far behind him on the shore a home he calls his own.
Salt is the breath of ocean slopes and fresher blows the breeze,
And swifter still each bounding keel cuts through the combing seas,
Athwart our masts the shadows of the dipping sea-gulls float,
And all the water-world’s alive when the fishing boats go out.
By : M s. Simpson
I’ll meet you there,
at the horizon,
when the glowing orange tip
of god’s pen writes
a sunset on the sea.
I’ll be soaring free
sunset fires upon my wings.
I’ll know you by the colors
your imagination brings
let’s fly awhile
together where the clouds
like angels sing.