Capturing the world with Photography, Painting and Drawing

Posts tagged “river suir

River Of Life, The – Poem by Thomas Campbell

The more we live, more brief appear
Our life’s succeeding stages;
A day to childhood seems a year,
And years like passing ages.

The gladsome current of our youth,
Ere passion yet disorders,
Steals lingering like a river smooth
Along its grassy borders.

But as the careworn cheek grows wan,
And sorrow’s shafts fly thicker,
Ye stars, that measure life to man,
Why seem your courses quicker?

When joys have lost their bloom and breath,
And life itself is vapid,
Why, as we reach the Falls of Death
Feel we its tide more rapid?

It may be strange—yet who would change
Time’s course to slower speeding,
When one by one our friends have gone,
And left our bosoms bleeding?

Heaven gives our years of fading strength
Indemnifying fleetness;
And those of youth, a seeming length,
Proportion’d to their sweetness.

Thomas Campbell


Images from 2017, February

A winters morning
The river Suir
County Tipperary
February 2017
Nigel Borrington


Images without words – Now the snow has gone, the river is high ………

Now the Snow has gone
River Suir
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington


Seven day Black and white photo challenge : Moon light over the river

Moon light over the river
River Suir
County Waterford
Nigel Borrington


Images without words : Frosty Morning on the river Suir, county Tipperary .


The Otter, By :Seamus Heaney

Otters on the River Suir
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington

The Otter
Seamus Heaney

When you plunged
The light of Tuscany wavered
And swung through the pool
From top to bottom.

I loved your wet head and smashing crawl,
Your fine swimmer’s back and shoulders
Surfacing and surfacing again
This year and every year since.

I sat dry-throated on the warm stones.
You were beyond me.
The mellowed clarities, the grape-deep air
Thinned and disappointed.

Thank God for the slow loadening,
When I hold you now
We are close and deep
As the atmosphere on water.

My two hands are plumbed water.
You are my palpable, lithe
Otter of memory
In the pool of the moment,

Turning to swim on your back,
Each silent, thigh-shaking kick
Re-tilting the light,
Heaving the cool at your neck.

And suddenly you’re out,
Back again, intent as ever,
Heavy and frisky in your freshened pelt,
Printing the stones.


Tales from the river Bank, River Suir, Country Tipperary

Tales from the River Bank,
River Suir,
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington

A Walk along the River Suir : Gallery


Today along the river Suir, County Tipperary

March on the river banks
River Suir
County Tipperary
Nigel Borrington

Early March walking along the banks of the river Suir, county Tipperary.

The trees are still bare but not for long now, we had the first dry day for a long time yet it was cool.

I love this river walk very much, a mountain view of Slievenamon county Tipperary, on the north side of the river and of the hills of county Waterford on the south side.

The river Suir, Tipperary, March 8th 2017 🙂


The river Suir , county Tipperary

A winters morning The river Suir County Tipperary February 2017  Nigel Borrington

A winters morning
The river Suir
County Tipperary
February 2017
Nigel Borrington

A winters morning along the river Suir county Tipperary ….

February and while sometimes it can feel like spring is just around the corner, some mornings can be as cold the coldest the winter can offer here. With this cold weather can come some of the most stunning views of the season along the river banks here in the south of Ireland, frost and mist and the deep blue of a morning sky …..

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THE TREE SINGS TO THE RIVER – By Lea Goldberg

The tree sings to the river Irish landscapes Nigel Borrington

The tree sings to the river
Irish landscapes
Nigel Borrington

He who carried my golden autumn,
Swept away my blood with the leaf fall,
He who shall see my spring when it returns
To him with the turning of the year.

My brother, the river, who is forever lost,
New each day and different and one,
My brother the stream between his two shores
Who flows as I do between spring and fall.

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For I am the bud and I am the fruit,
I am my future and I am my past,
I am the solitary tree trunk,
And you — you are my time and my song.