February 2023, Week Fifteen

 Hello my lovelies, how are you all doing? I hope you've had a good week? I have been working on a new creative project recently, so I haven't been out on as many adventures of late, but I still have a few photos to share with you all. I am so fortunate to live in such a beautiful area, with so many things to discover within just a short walk of my house.

Sunset views from the garden.

Sunset over Raghtin Mor, with the Clonmany River in the foreground.

I don't even have to leave the property to have spectacular views! I can see two beautiful hills from my windows, and if I walk across the patio there is a small waterfall and stream, that feed into the Clonmany River, which I can see from the bottom of the lawn. There are so many trees within sight too, and many of them are starting to bud already. My view will soon be much altered and greener as we move into Spring, but I love trees in Winter too.

Stone Bridge over the Clonmany River.

The Road Goes Ever On And On.

I have mentioned before that many people expressed concern before I moved here. The word 'bleak' was used several times. I moved at the beginning of November, and while I spent every Summer here growing up, this was my first Winter here, and people feared that I would find it cold, lonely, and well, bleak! I think you might have been able to tell from my previous posts, this has not been the case for me. There is so much colour to be seen here, even in Winter. The endless play of light alters the landscape so much, and while it is wonderful to go out on a sunny day, I get just as much pleasure from exploring on cloudy ones. You never know when the sun is going to break through the clouds and highlight a certain hill or valley, or when a rainbow will appear before you.

Gorse in Bloom, with Bulaba/Bulbin in the distance.

Wintry Trees reflected in the Clonmany River.

The very bones and history of the land here appeal to me too. There are stone walls that have been in place for hundreds of years, still used to contain sheep. Old cottages remain, though those who lived there are long gone. Other walls have crumbled, and are overgrown with moss, as Nature tries to reclaim her territory. It is no wonder that myths, legends, and fairytales are so prevalent in the Irish culture. Magic feels entire possible here. For myself, I am convinced it exists, though perhaps not in the ways you would expect. I am constantly inspired by the beautiful landscape, versus feeling stressed, depressed, and oppressed, as I did when I was living so far from home. Now, I have the time and energy to chase my dreams, my health has improved so much since I moved here, and I have honestly never been happier.

Mossy Stones by the Clonmany River.

Mossy Footpath by the Clonmany River.

I'd like to share a poem with you, that I just recently discovered. I believe the poet was thinking of Scotland, but his words touched my soul here in Ireland too. He understands.

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."

Clonmany River.

Clonmany River Walk.