Capturing the world with Photography, Painting and Drawing

Posts tagged “Monday mornings

Monday Morning on the lake

Monday Morning on the lake Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

Monday Morning on the lake
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

This photo was taken one Monday morning at a small bay on lake Windermere in the lake district national park, Windermere is some 18km long and at it widest some 2km wide. Its one of the most beautiful places I know and if you can spend sometime here at Windermere , you will find many wonderful locations just to sit and read and study the wildlife and nature it offers.

Even just to sit and look at these two boats moving slowly in the water is something I will always remember.

So then lake Windermere and two boats and one clear relaxed mind!


Monday Mornings along the lane.

Tipperary Landscapes Nigel Borrington

Tipperary Landscapes
Nigel Borrington

Monday the 19th January 2015y

This Monday Morning was just amazing along the lane, a light covering of frost and snow still covered the mountain of Slievenamon, country Tipperary and I just wanted to share this image with you.

I often think this period of January is a little hard on people, the fun of Christmas has gone , the new year has well and truly started and yet the long dark nights are still here. Maybe one of the best ways to raise your spirits is to get outside and find somewhere with a view – like a park , mountains or rivers and take in the great weather this month can bring 🙂

A Monday morning in January !!!!


Irish landscape photography : Monday morning sunrise at the beach – a Poem

Monday Morning at the Beach, Monatray West, Youghal, Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

Monday Morning at the Beach,
Monatray West, Youghal,
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

Monday morning at the beach

A Monday morning Sunrise at the Beach
the soft breath of the sea air,
tickles your nose.

You feel the cool morning air,
lightly brushing your cheek.

Soft Sun light
surrounds you in a welcoming hug.

The waves nip at your toes,
you can taste the ocean,
while the moon says goodbye.

Light bursts across the beach,
the sky brightens in a joyful smile.

The clouds disappear,
as the sun dances across the waves.


Monday mornings in the Mist

Monday Trees at Coolagh 001
Mist on a Monday Morning
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

Misty Monday Mornings.

Some Monday Mornings start full of purpose, the weekend has revived your spirits and you have a clear focus of what your aims are for the week. Other Monday mornings you just don’t know what your doing, you have aims but they just are not in focus sitting in a misty haze and you just cannot reach out to grab them.

This Monday morning, well ?

It was a wonderful Morning for a walk to clear my mind and try to find some direction, the mist was down on the local fields again and a blue and very peaceful haze just floated about the trees.

After Lunch time I hope the mist will lift ….. ?

Monday Trees at Coolagh 003

Monday Trees at Coolagh 004

Monday Trees at Coolagh 002


Monday mornings. A poem: When the fishing boats go out.

Monday Morning all at sea
Fishing boat setting to sea, Youghal, county Cork
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

Monday Morning – setting to sea

Monday morning and it is that time of the week when I am always looking somehow to get my mind and body moving.

Some little time back I stayed for a week down near Youghal, county Cork. Each Morning I would watch the boats heading out to sea, very early each day they would slowly disappear over the horizon.

Just to help me start my own day and the week ahead I found this Poem by Lucy Montgomery.

When the Fishing Boats Go Out

Lucy 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 shiver­oh, 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.