The Elements : Earth
Suir valley from Tullahought – Kilkenny landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
Connected to the North,
Earth is considered the ultimate feminine element, Earth is fertile and stable, associated with the Goddess. The planet itself is a ball of life, and as the Wheel of the Year turns, we can watch all the aspects of life take place in the Earth: birth, life, death, and finally rebirth. The Earth is nurturing and stable, solid and firm, full of endurance and strength. In color correspondences, both green and brown connect to the Earth, for fairly obvious reasons! In Tarot readings, the Earth is related to the suit of Pentacles or Coins.
Mother goddess is a term used to refer to a goddess who represents motherhood, fertility, creation, or who embodies the bounty of the Earth. When equated with the Earth or the natural world such goddesses are sometimes referred to as Mother Earth or as the Earth Mother.
Celtic Goddess
The Irish goddess Anu, sometimes known as Danu, has an impact as a mother goddess, judging from the Dá Chích Anann near Killarney, County Kerry. Irish literature names the last and most favored generation of deities as “the people of Danu” (Tuatha De Danann). The Welsh have a similar figure called Dôn who is often equated with Danu and identified as a mother goddess. Sources for this character date from the Christian period, however, so she is referred to simply as a “mother of heroes” in the Mabinogion. The character’s (assumed) origins as a goddess are obscured.
The Celts of Gaul worshipped a goddess known as Dea Matrona (“divine mother goddess”) who was associated with the Marne River. Similar figures known as the Matres (Latin for “mothers”) are found on altars in Celtic as well as Germanic areas of Europe.
In many cultures, earth spirits are beings that are tied to the land and plant kingdom. Typically, these beings are associated with another realm, the forces of nature that inhabit a particular physical space, and landmarks like rocks and trees.
In Celtic mythology, the realm of the Fae is known to exist in a parallel space with the land of man. The Fae are part of the Tuatha de Danaan, and live underground. It’s important to watch out for them, because they’re known for their ability to trick mortals into joining them.
Gnomes feature prominently in European legend and lore. Although it’s believed that their name was coined by a Swiss alchemist named Paracelsus, these elemental beings have long been associated in one form or another with the ability to move underground.
Likewise, elves often appear in stories about the land. Jacob Grimm collected a number of stories about elves while compiling his book Teutonic Mythology, and says that elves appear in the Eddas as supernatural, magic-using beings. They appear in a number of old English and Norse legends.
Autumn in Ireland is a wonderful time of the year.
lakes of Killarney in the Autumn time
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Out on the lakes of Killarney, Autumn time and colours
Autumn time in Ireland is a wonderful time to be a photographer or an artist, the landscape comes alive with colour.
There are many locations to be captured but one place I always think of at this time of year is the lakes at Killarney. It is possible to do boat trips around the lakes here almost all year around and hiring a small boat is great fun.
These images are taken from auch a boat you can see in the first image with some taken on parts of the banks of the lake that would just not reachable with out use of this boats.
It’s great fun to do something like this packing an lunch, loading a camera and tripod in to the boat and just heading off for the day.
The lakes of Killarney, an Autumn gallery
Compact Cameras and their image sensor size.
Canon G1x and Nikon P7000
Digital Compacts and Sensor size
Ever since Digital cameras became available to the professional and the Consumer market alike there has been an ongoing debate about the sensor size that the manufacture selects for each Model.
You can see all the possible types and sizes of sensors here : Image Sensor types and sizes
As well as SLR cameras , I own two cameras that have sensor sizes below what most people, stereotypically would consider are professional, by which people mean that you would be able to sell the images to be printed in magazines or used for commercial reasons.
Most of the time I use these cameras when I know that their images will be used for the Internet or for personal reasons like Holidays or Family pictures.
However the Boss of Nikon-USA last year made a statement that the size of the sensor is now being made less important than ever before, simply because the image quality being produced by most sensors over that of a pocket camera or an i-phone was increasing year on year.
His statement was sure to and did raise some debate, specially from the owners of very expensive Nikon Cameras !
So , over the last few months I have taken a closer look at what he was talking about and the results are very interesting, below I have posted six images taken by a Nikon P7000 and then a Canon G1x , which as you can see from the diagram above on the left, has a much larger sensor that the other camera used here a Nikon P7000.
Many top end compact Cameras have a sensor size of 7.60mm x 5.70mm in size, the Canon G1x has a much larger sensor that measures 18.70mm x 14mm.
Many Photographers who make money selling images fell that the Canon G1x has a very acceptable image quality for a good 80% of image types and keep this compact-camera as a backup or as a carry anywhere camera. Sometimes a large and heavy SLR is just a pain to carry and makes you very conspicuous !!
So the question I was asking myself is , is there a big difference in image quality between these two Cameras here ?
Well the images below don’t appear to show many if any at all, the Nikon has a 10mp output and the Canon 14mp so if your are printing the images you could get a 36x27cm print from the little Canon and a 30cm x 23cm print from the Nikon, both at 300dpi.
This is a large surprise to me and I am sure could and would be questioned in a camera review lab but I am taking real world images from both sensor sizes and comparing them.
In all other respects I can see little defects in the RAW images coming from the Nikon as opposed to the Canon, the Colors are very good they both contain about the same level of detail in the shadow areas and the highlights such as bright areas of sky and clouds and have an image noise level that is acceptable.
So is the Boss of Nikon America correct, well yes, in many respects from looking at the results of most cameras with a sensor size of and over the 1/1.7″, with these sensors you will get some great images provided the camera itself is designed to let you do so!
Will I be throwing my full sized sensor SLR in the bin , well NO! not just yet but it is very reassuring to know that at last you can take these kind of cameras anywhere (Holidays, long walks, tops of mountains and family events) and get very good results , something that has not always been the case!
Just as some final comments,
At some point I will compare these cameras to my SLR and study these difference’s, However the very fact that a close study of the image quality difference’s is even needed shows just how good top end compact cameras have become.
I started the post by saying that this area , sensor size has always been a hot topic and it always will be but you will hear many people tell you that a type of camera is not good, when you ask “OH!!! why ?” they will bring up areas such as depth of field being Shallower with full frame sensor slr’s, very true , what they will not say however is how often they need this ability and how often they use it !!
What they also leave out is that in Macro photography you want a much deeper depth of field, otherwise that Bee your trying to get a picture of will only have its head and not its body in focus!
Three images of the same image scene
Canon G1x followed by Nikon P7000
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, By : Wallace Stevens
Blackbird in the light of the Moon
Nature Photography : Nigel Borrington
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
By Wallace Stevens
I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.
III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.
The Glassblower , Images from Waterford crystal and a Poem By : Jeff Crandall
Waterford Crystal Glass blower
Photography : Nigel Borrington
The Glassblower
By : Jeff Crandall
This vessel has curves
pleasing to the eye, a soft lip,
a flat foot to rest on. I want to cup my palms
over the glowing color of its cooling,
but later. . . .
Now my eye is caught in the heat
of its final fire polish.
What dripped from the pipe
—radiant, thick as semen—
achieves fulfillment in the motions
of my own turning.
The amorphous, the malleable
awakens. There is a taste to the air here.
Steel. Iron in your mouth.
What formed at the glory hole
delicate as an adolescent
reflection in a mirror
cools in the first few minutes from that heat,
cools to the rigid shatter state.
If I hold this glass
suspended in the lit gas heat
I can watch it slump. I can let the thin walls
collapse and tear
back to a puddle of clear:
I wipe saliva from my chin.
I anneal myself with hugs.
I contain the polarized stresses.
I return to the cold of the holding shelf.
Monday Poetry , “Ulysses” By : Alfred Tennyson
A distant view of Slievenamon, County Tipperary, Ireland.
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Sometimes walking around the counties of Kilkenny and Tipperary you get an overwhelming sense of history , old church yards with old graves, Monuments left by ancient peoples and their tribes.
Places left as a reminder of Leaders and Kings and people long past.
Places and people that could be contained in “Ulysses” a poem by Alfred Tennyson.
Ulysses
By : Alfred Tennyson
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Matched with an agèd wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vexed the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honoured of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough
Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this grey spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle—
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and through soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought
with me—
.
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Capturing Autumn in County Kilkenny (Images and a Poem by : Andrea Rieck)
Autumn Landscape,
County Kilkenny,
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
It the end of the Second week of October 2014 and Autumn is taking a hold of the county Kilkenny Landscape, We had bad weather and high winds at the start of last week so some of the trees lost a good amount of their leaves. Many however still remain and the golden browns are coming through very well.
I came across this poem by Andrea Rieck last night and wanted to share it along with some of my Autumn images.
It’s autumn again
By : Andrea Rieck
Leaves whisper the sound of our past
In loss they pay a descent
To the ground we fall
It’s autumn again
Our song is sung by the wind
Echoes of loss and grief
Through chilled air we wade
It’s autumn again
The waters grow as cold as our hearts
We are alike – crusted in ice
In ourselves we freeze
It’s autumn again
Flowers vanish from our sadness
Our beauty grows weak
Covered in frost we wither
It’s autumn again
The rain falls like our tears
Can’t dry our eyes
From the sky we descend
It’s autumn again
The sun shines then fails like us
Our sight becomes a wintry gray
Lost in darkness we will fade
It’s autumn again
Images of the sheep shearing shed and a Poem by Lorna Madson
The Sheep Shearing Shed,
Country Kerry,
Irish Photography : Nigel Borrington
Shearing
– by Lorna Madson
I still recall shearing at Dad’s place,
All those early starts,
Learning to skirt the fleeces,
Pulling off the daggy parts.
I remember Dad sewing up sheep that were cut,
With a needle and big piece of cotton,
Sometimes we helped him yard up the sheep,
Or bring in some the dog had forgotten.
There’s a definite art to throwing a fleece,
One that i’m still yet to master,
The only time I ever tried,
Was a complete and utter disaster!
It was always a guess as to when we would shear,
Dad never knew quite when they’d come,
But you always knew by their thirsty look,
When they were about to do the last run.
Mum prepared meals and worked in the shed,
While us kids got up to mischief,
One time we shore so late in October,
Mum asked if they’d be there for Christmas!
Every year without a doubt,
The straw broom went down to the shed,
Either Dad forgot to buy one,
Or it was easier to take Mum’s instead.
On school days we’d race from the bus to the shed,
There was no time for homework or chores,
Getting tossed in a wool press, riding sheep in the pen,
Our hands full of prickles and sore.
When we cut-out half the district would come,
The wool table would be covered in grub,
Plenty to drink and the odd song or two,
It was better than any session at the pub!
This is a glimpse of what shearing was like,
Or at least it’s the bits I remember,
The shearing shed’s where all the action was at,
Usually somewhere around August-September.
But I doubt if Dad’s memories of shearing,
Are as fond to him as mine are to me,
For I didn’t have to worry ’bout microns,
Wool packs and presses you see!
The Standing Stones, Poem by : John Bliven Morin
Standing stone at Glengarriff Nature Reserve.
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
The Standing Stones
By : John Bliven Morin
Who will go where the standing stones stand,
when the fog rolls in and covers the land,
when the moon is hidden in a cloudy sky,
and the night is as dark as a raven’s eye,
and the wind is as cold as a winter’s chill,
What’s that? You say you’ll dare, you will?
We’re here. If you’ve courage in your mortal bones,
then go and walk through the standing stones;
yes, that way, go, though it’s hard to see
the ancient path in this obscurity;
your torch is useless for a light,
with the fog and the darkness of the night;
you go alone, for you claim the nerve;
I’ll stay right here, for I only serve.
Follow this footpath through the mist,
and keep to the path I must insist.
You step down the path and I’m lost to view,
as the fog and the mist are surrounding you;
several sounds – grinding – from all about,
startle you so that you almost shout,
but all that comes out is a muted croak,
as you wrap yourself in your winter cloak.
You feel things moving through the very ground,
huge things, horrid things sliding around,
which make your skin crawl with growing fear,
and you sense that something is drawing near;
something immense, for the earth so shakes
that a chill runs up your spine and makes
the hair on your head stand up in fright,
as the fog rolls past and hides from sight
that which you fear but cannot see;
perhaps in your nightmares previously.
Wasn’t that standing stone over there?
But now it’s so close, and that other pair
are much nearer too than they were before!
You remember tales of ancient lore,
as you fall back on some lower stones,
and the Old Ones come to crush your bones;
you scream in fear, you scream in pain,
but all your screaming is quite in vain,
for no one can hear you or see the blood
flow down the altar-stone in a flood;
Then all is quiet; you’ve paid the price,
for you were the Druid’s sacrifice.
and I, their servant. go from here
homeward, until another year.
The Elements : Water.
The elements , Water
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
The Pagan element of Water and the pagan Irish Goddess : Boann and the Irish God : Nechtan
Water, is of a great necessity, without it nothing can live. Only earth and water can bring forth a living soul. Such is the greatness of water that spiritual regeneration cannot be done without it.
Thales of Miletus concluded that water was the beginning of all things and the first of all elements and most potent because of its mastery over the rest. Pliny said “Water swallow up the earth, extinguishes the flame, ascends on high, and by stretching forth as clouds challenges the heavens for their own, and the same falling down, becomes the cause of all things that grow in the earth.
Water is a cleansing, healing, psychic, and loving element. It is the feeling of friendship and love that pours over us when we are with our family, friends and loved ones. When we swim it is water that supports us, when we are thirsty, it is water the quenches our thirst, another manifestation of this element is the rainstorms that drench us, or the dew formed on plants after the sun has set.
The power of the energy of Water, can be felt by tasting pure spring water, moving you hand through a stream, lake, pool, or bowl full of water. You can feel its cool liquidity; it’s soft and loving touch, this motion and fluidity is the quality of Air within Water. This Water energy is also contained within ourselves, our bodies being mostly composed of Water.
As well as being vital for life, within the energy of this element is contained the essence of love. Love is the underlying reason for all magic. Water is love.
Water is a feminine element, it also the element of emotion and subconscious, of purification, intuition, mysteries of the self, compassion and family. It is psychic ability; water can be used as a means of scrying or as an object for meditation. Water is important in spells and rituals of friendship, marriage, happiness, fertility, healing, pleasure, psychic abilities and spells involving mirrors.
Ref : Pagan elements of Water
.
Irish Goddess : Boann, Irish God : Nechtan
Celtic (Irish) Goddess of the River Boyne and mother of Angus Mac Og by the Dagda. She was the wife of Nechtan, a god of the water. Likewise, Boann was herself a water-goddess, and one of her myths concerns the water. According to legend, there was a sacred well (Sidhe Nechtan) that contained the source of knowledge. All were forbidden to approach this well, with the exception of the god Nechtan (as was noted, Boann’s husband) and his servants. Boann ignored the warnings, and strode up to the sacred well, thus violating the sanctity of the area. For this act, she was punished, and the waters of the defiled well swelled and were transformed into a raging river, a river that pursued her. In some versions, she was drowned; while in others, she managed to outrun the currents. In either case, this water became the river that was known henceforth as the Boyne, and Boann thereafter became the presiding deity.
Another aspect of the myth of Boann is that she bore Angus. She and the All father of the Tuatha De Danaan, the Dagda, engaged in an illicit affair that resulted in the birth of this god of love. However, since both Boann and the Dagdha wished to keep their rendezvous a secret, they used their divine powers to cause the nine month gestation period to last but a single day – or so it seemed, for the sun was frozen in the sky for those nine months, never setting and never rising. On this magical day, Angus emerged into the world. She held the powers of healing. Variants: Boannan, Boyne.
Glengarriff, west Cork, Ireland : Gallery
Glengarriff, Beara Peninsula of County Cork, Ireland.
Irish landscapes : Nigel Borrington
Glengarriff, Beara Peninsula of County Cork, Ireland.
These images where taken on a visit to the west Cork town of Glengarriff during September 2014.
To me the town is at the top of my personal list of best visits in Ireland, for its size it has plenty of places to eat and drink and some great little shops. The surrounding area is full of great places to visit with a wonderful coast line , Mountain walks and Historic parks and nature reserves.
The Town has an official web site here : Glengarriff
Glengarriff the town
Glengarriff (Irish: Gleann Garbh, meaning “Rough glen”) is a village of approximately 800 people on the N71 national secondary road in the Beara Peninsula of County Cork, Ireland. Known internationally as a tourism venue, it boasts many natural attractions. It sits at the northern head of Glengarriff Bay, a smaller enclave of Bantry Bay.
Located 20 km (~12 miles) west of Bantry, and 30 km (~18 miles) east of Castletownbere, it is a popular stop along the routes around the area. In recent years, its importance as a waypoint along the Castletownbere to Cork fish-delivery route has declined as local infrastructure improves.
Glengarriff : Gallery
Landscape Photography of Ireland
Caha Mountains, Healy Pass, Ring of Beara, West Cork
Irish Landscapes : Nigel Borrington[/caption]
A view of the Caha Mountains, Healy Pass, Ring of Beara, West Cork
This image was taken on one evening in early September 2014.
I was on a walk through the Healy pass on the Breara , west cork. On getting to the top of the pass I looked back towards Lauragh and the view was just amazing with the ice-age lake at Lauragh upper below. The image is made up of five frames taken using a nikon 18-200 zoom lens at 35mm.
Landscape photography of Ireland
Kilkash castle
County Tipperary
Irish Landscapes : Nigel Borrington
Kilcash Castle is a ruined castle off the N24 road just west of Ballydine in South Tipperary, Ireland. The castle consists of a fortified sixteenth-century tower and an adjoining hall added at a later date.
I have visited this Castle many times over the years, however in more resent months it has been under renovations by the OPW (Office of public works). All the images in this post were taken before this work started.
I noticed last week however that the work is about to complete and I hope to revisit in order to take some new images, when the castle reopens to the public.
Kilcash castle : History
Kilcash may have been a monastic foundation of the mid sixth century. The Butler dynasty has important links to the area. The third son of James Butler, 9th Earl of Ormond was John Butler of Kilcash who occupied lands in Kilcash. His heirs went on to provide four immediate heirs to the earldom of Ormond when the senior line failed through lack of legitimate male issue.
Near the castle are the remains of a medieval church with a Romanesque doorway. This building was partially repaired in the 1980s and is now safe to visit. In the graveyard, the mausoleum (a building nearly as large as the church) contains the tombs of Archbishop Christopher Butler (1673–1757), Margaret, Viscountess Iveagh (see below), Walter Butler, the 16th Earl of Ormond (d. 1773) and John Butler, the 17th Earl (d. 1795). Some of the eighteenth-century headstones are carved with elaborate scenes of the crucifixion.
The main castle building is a fortified tower dating from the sixteenth-century. An adjoining hall was added at a later date, when the need for defence gave way to the large windows associated with settled times. In the sixteenth century the manor of Kilcash passed from the Wall family into the possession of the Butlers of Ormond until the latter sold it to the Irish State in 1997 for £500.
The castle was visited by James Tuchet, 3rd Earl of Castlehaven, a noted Confederate Catholic commander in the 1641-52 war, who wrote his memoirs at Kilcash where his sister, Lady Frances, was married to another Confederate commander, Richard Butler of Kilcash (d. 1701).
By the 19th century, the castle had fallen into ruin after parts of the Kilcash estate were sold c. 1800. During the Irish Civil War, the castle was occupied by anti-treaty forces in an attempt to slow the approach of pro-treaty forces towards Clonmel. They were finally dislodged by artillery fire under the command of General Prout, further damaging the already dilapidated structure.
By the late twentieth century the castle was in a dangerous state of repair. It is currently undergoing extensive repairs which will prevent it from collapsing.
Kilcash Castle : Gallery
Monday Morning Images and Poetry – You And your free range chickens, by : James Jarrett
You And your free range chickens
Farming Photography : Nigel Borrington
your free range chickens
by : James Jarrett
I often thought about you
And your free range chickens
Being happy on the land
Living life free
Both pecking and scraping
Getting life from the dust
But I didn’t know
That it could never be enough
Tho’ scratch might make some happy
I found out too late
That it wouldn’t do for you
But if I could
Believe me true
I’d bring you chickens
Instead of flowers
To brighten up your room
The Elements : Air
Pagan Elements : Air
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
The pagan elements :
Air
The element of Air is vital to human survival, without it we would all perish, its aspects are Thinness, Motion and Darkness and its quality is Active. Air is the manifestation of movement, freshness, communication and of the intelligence. Sound is another manifestation of this element. As an element, it is invisible, but its reality can be felt in the air that we breathe in every day.
To connect with the power of this element, find a place with clean air and breathe deeply, touch a feather or inhale the fragrance of a heavily scented flower. Let yourself experience the energy of this element, and reflect that we also possess Air energy within ourselves.
In magical terms, Air is the power of the mind, the force of intellect, inspiration, imagination. It is ideas, knowledge, dreams and wishes. Air is the element of new life and new possibilities and is essential to spells and rituals of travel, instruction, finding lost items, some types of divination, and freedom. Air aids us in visualization, a vital technique in magic.
Air is a masculine element and governs the magick of the four winds. It is the vital spirit passing through all things, giving life to all things, moving and filling all things. Thus Hebrew doctors ascribe it not as an element but as a medium or glue that binds all things together.
Air
The first element of the alchemical tradition.
Air is the essence of intuition and learning, the element of the nature of the mind.
Astrological Signs: Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius.
Represented by: Feathers, Birds, incense, fans, flags, flowing garments and sheer material.
Season: Winter
Color: White
Chakra: Crown
Celtic air god and goddess:
Arianrhod
“The Silver Wheel”, “High Fruitful Mother”. Celtic Goddess, the sister of Gwydion and wife of Donn. Deity of element of Air, reincarnation, full moons, time, karma, retribution. The palace of this sky Goddess was Caer Arianrhold (Aurora Borealis). Keeper of the Silver Wheel of Stars, a symbol of time and karma. Her ship, Oar Wheel, carried dead warriors to Emania (Moon-land).
Arianrhod (Welsh pronunciation: [arˈjanr̥ɔd]) is a figure in Welsh mythology who plays her most important role in the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi. She is the daughter of Dôn and the sister of Gwydion and Gilfaethwy; the Welsh Triads give her father as Beli Mawr.[1] In the Mabinogi her uncle Math ap Mathonwy is the King of Gwynedd, and during the course of the story she gives birth to two sons, Dylan Ail Don and Lleu Llaw Gyffes, through magical means.
Ref:
GODDESSES: Aradia, Cardea, Nuit, Urania.
GODS: Enlil, Kheohera, Mercurym, Shu, Thoth.
Kilkenny Landscape photography – Grangefertagh Round tower, Co. Kilkenny
Grangefertagh Roundtower, near Johnstown, Co. Kilkenny
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Grangefertagh Round tower, Co. Kilkenny
I have passed the round tower at Grangefertagh many time but it is only in the last week that I had time to stop and get some images.
The Round tower at Grangefertagh, County Kilkenny stands some 31 metres tall and forms a striking image above the Kilkenny countryside.
The northeast facing doorway which is situated 3.3 metres above ground level has been badly damaged. A farmer removed the original stones and used them to form a fireplace, mistakenly believing they were fireproof. It contains nine windows in total , six angle headed and three lintel-led. Four of the angle headed windows are on the top storey facing the four cardinal points. The tower is complete to the cornice but only part of the cap remains.
A modern doorway has been inserted by the O.P.W. The round tower is the last remnant of the early monastery founded by St Ciaran of Seir in the 6th century. It was raided by vikings in 861 and in 1156 the high king Murtagh McNeale burned the tower with the lector inside. To the north of the tower is a church that belonged to the 13th century monastery founded by the Blanchevilles for the Canons Regular of St Augustine
Wikipedia : What are Irish Roundtowers
Gallery
Harvest time, an Image then a Poem by : Darryl Davis
Harvest time. October 2014
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Harvest Time (Bois-De-Villers)
October is the month of knots.
Loose ends find each other,
Life is defined once more.
At least, this was how I saw it,
As a visitor, an urban tourist,
There to play peasant at the
Granite knob on the green knoll,
Which was always well worked into
A sticky brown smear by the time
The first tree had blushed.
For the leathery people who lived there,
It was but another day with no name beyond
That which had been scratched
On the calendar at the beginning of the year.
A single stroke which dotted one line
And indented another in calculated haste.
Indeed, it was just something else to be done.
Just another list to be compiled
Through calluses and brown sweat.
In the fields we pulled our backs bent.
Each individual plant represented six months of sun and rain,
Weeks of drying after picking and
One hard-earned day of food more.
As we lumbered about, marveling
At our clothes covered in clay
And the soreness of our hands,
They were careful to pick up everything
Which had fallen from our floundering wheelbarrow
And studiously counted each load before
Sliding everything down the chipped hole
To the root cellar for stacking and drying.
At the day’s yawn, they scurried around us still,
Too busy warming creaking chairs,
Too tired to much care.
Cramped from thumb to elbow,
Our fingers were crinkled walnut branches,
Knotted and done like the damp bundles
We wouldn’t need to bear a thought of
For another year to come.
County Kilkenny Landscape photography
Callan, County Kilkenny,
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
This image is of the Friary Green, Callan, County Kilkenny on an early Autumn walk.
Bullaun Stones – Water worship in Pagan life.
Bullaun Stone – Bonane Heritage park , county Kerry
Irish landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
Bullaun Stones
The original purpose of bullan stones is not really known, but they have an undisputed association with water and worship. A ‘bullaun’ is a deep hemispherical cup hollowed out of a rock. Bullaun Stone refers to the rock itself, which can have many bullauns in it, although many are single.
Water in Pagan life
Water (Uisce in irish / place names after : Adare, the ford that feeds the oak tree.) is a feminine energy and highly connected with the aspects of the Goddess. Used for healing, cleansing, and purification, Water is related to the West, and associated with passion and emotion. In many spiritual paths, consecrated Water can be found – consecrated water is just regular water with salt added to it, and usually a blessing or invocation is said above it. In Wiccan covens, such water is used to consecrate the circle and all the tools within it. As you may expect, water is associated with the color blue.
Ten thousand years ago, before the coming of Christianity in Ireland, the rivers served a very important role in the lives of the people living along its banks. It was their source of food, and a place where their cattle and crops thrived on the nourished plains. It also acted as a barrier between opposing armies and clans. People saw the rivers as powerful objects and worshipped river gods. Often people placed weapons and ornaments of precious metal in the river as offerings to these gods.
Irish Goddess :Brighid
Location: Ireland.
One of the triple Goddesses of the Celtic pantheon. She is the daughter of The Dagda, the All Father of the Tuatha de Danann, one of the most ancient people of Northern Europe. Some say there are actually three Brighids; one is in charge of poetry and inspiration; one is in charge of midwifery and healing, and the last is in charge of crafts and smiths.
She probably began as a sun Goddess. According to legend, she was born at sunrise and a tower of flame beamed from her head.
As Goddess of fire and water, she is immortalized by many wells and springs. Most important of her monuments, though, was a shrine at Kildare where there was a perpetual flame burning for Brighid. It was tended by nineteen virgins called the Daughters of the Flame, wearing deep crimson habits and bearing swords. They would not talk to men, nor could men come near the shrine. Her feast is St.Brighids Days in Ireland and is the Pagan Festival of Imbolc
When Christianity began its onset, so loved was Brighid that she was made a saint. However, the upkeep on her flame was considered pagan by the church and it was extinguished out of more than a thousand years of burning. St. Brigit remains one of the most popular Irish saints today, along with Saint Patrick.
Identical to Juno, Queen of Heaven. Symbolizes human potential. Also known as Brigit, Brigid, Brigindo, Bride.
Dark the bitter winter,
cutting its sharpness,
but Bride’s mantle,
brings spring to Ireland.
Irish Goddess :Fland
Location: Ireland.
Description:
Daughter of woodland Goddess Flidais. A lake Goddess who is viewed in modern (Post Christian) folklore as an evil water faery who lures swimmers to their death.
She rules over: Water magick, rivers and lakes
Gallery
Golden hour on the River Barrow, Co Kilkenny : Six Images.
Golden hour on the river Barrow,
County Kilkenny.
Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
This September has been one of the warmest and driest in memory and just perfect for late evening walks along our local river banks.
These images are just some I have taken just before sunset each evening, September 2014 is one to remember for a long time !
Golden hour on the River Barrow : Gallery
Parascending from Slievenamon, county Tipperary : Image gallery
Parascending from Slievenamon, Tipperary.
Photography : Nigel Borrington
You will often find people Parascending from the mountain of Slievenamon , county Tipperary. The mountain is located on the border between counties Kilkenny and Tipperary and offers great views of both.
Late one evening recently, I came across three people walking up and I walked along side them for a while as the carried their equipment to the top and then all took off at the same time, it was just amazing to stand and watch them as they circled around above then disappeared off into the distance some miles away.
Parascending from Slievenamon : Gallery
Brownshill Dolmen, county Carlow : Image Gallery
Brownshill Dolmen, county Carlow, Ireland.
Irish photography : Nigel Borrington
Brownshill Dolmen
Arriving at this great location of the Brownshill Dolmen, county Carlow on a typical overcast early autumn day in Ireland. I located the site of the largest Dolmen in this part of Europe very easily as there are plenty of road signs to help you.
There is a small walk through a field an up-to a preserved area containing the Dolmen itself, the information board is of great help and places this construction into it context.
It is the cap stone that is the most impressive part of this Dolmen.
Discover Ireland describes this monument as follows :
The Brownshill Dolmen is an unmistakable monument to the east of Carlow town dating back to pre-historic times.
Its date of construction has been estimated at between 4,900 and 5,500 years ago and it is thought that religious rites were performed here. Some authorities also suggest that it may have served as a form of border marker.
Whatever it’s original purpose, it represents a tangible link between the present and the past. The magnificent granite capstone, weighing about 103 tonnes, has excited the interest of many antiquarians and tourists for centuries.
Brownshill Dolmen, county Carlow : Gallery
A swim at Coolieragh’s, coves. Glengarriff, county cork
Molly taking a dip
Coolieragh’s, coves. Glengarriff, county cork
Irish landscape photography : Nigel Borrington
Recently we stayed at Coolieragh’s, Glengarriff, county cork , its a great location just west of Glengarriff.
The coast line is full of rocky coves that are perfect for taking a swim, we took molly our golden retriever down to the best of these many time during the week. She loves to swim and even though the water was cold we also took the opportunity many time as well.
A swim at Coolieragh’s, coves. Glengarriff, county cork
Irish landscape photography and a Poem by : Edwin Arlington Robinson
Kilkenny photograher, Nigel Borrington
The old Mill on the river Barrow, Goresbridge, Kilkenny
The Mill
By : Edwin Arlington Robinson
The miller’s wife had waited long,
The tea was cold, the fire was dead;
And there might yet be nothing wrong
In how he went and what he said:
“There are no millers any more,”
Was all that she heard him say;
And he had lingered at the door
So long it seemed like yesterday.
Sick with a fear that had no form
She knew that she was there at last;
And in the mill there was a warm
And mealy fragrance of the past.
What else there was would only seem
To say again what he had meant;
And what was hanging from a beam
Would not have heeded where she went.
And if she thought it followed her,
She may have reasoned in the dark
That one way of the few there were
Would hide her and would leave no mark:
Black water, smooth above the weir
Like starry velvet in the night,
Though ruffled once, would soon appear
The same as ever to the sight.
Nigel Borrington 
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