To Éire with Love Once More

Happy St Patrick’s Day!

Copyright 2012 by DM Denton

This time the blackberries were ripening, seed pods cracking, rose hips shining in the sun blowing in and out of the sky. There was honeysuckle in the hedges. Like the bloom in our cheeks as we rode along. And in the gorse and heather, again and at last. The moss was a carpet laid for our steps through a wood-and-wonder-land, dark oak, grey ash (red-berried too), silver birch and airy fern. And bluebells imagined, like a strawberry tree. Elsewhere there were mushrooms, surprising us like rabbits. While jackdaws were expected at the end of a shorter day, a silent peat fire making the night and reason we were together familiar.

Copyright 2012 by DM Denton

We lived day to day–what else was there to do? Waking to the rain that misted our view. Though it was something to see the crows claiming a chimney. To warm their hearts? Or dry their wings? By the time we ate our pink bacon the mountains were rising again. So we took to the road that still sounded wet, passing the jaunters as they passed us sympathizing or gloating as we walked up another hill. Sometimes we abandoned our wheels for the slowness of our step. To stray. Even from each other. And meet like the waters where time stood. But not too still, the water boatmen as busy as we weren’t, a fat robin flirting nearer and nearer until flying away, the light always changing.

So much time. To do nothing. But eat cream cakes and salads and sandwiches. And look at the mountains surrounding us more noticeably than the sea. It seemed all the same, being in love with each other and the place. At the end of the day going the same way as the jaunters who couldn’t see us either as we climbed gates and crossed fields, trespassing where we felt welcome.

1985

©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

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30 thoughts on “To Éire with Love Once More

  1. This is so beautiful! This must have been in Autumn? All those wonderful details keep filling my mind with wonderful images, like that of your black berries!

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    • Thank you, Ina! Yes, it was autumn, mid-September, and quite as lovely as when we went in spring. We rented a small white stucco cottage (this was in the countryside outside of Kilarney) and even wandered the fields and hedgerows nearby picking mushrooms and blackberries.

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  2. takes me back to 1960 where we lived in the forests and riverside in Southern British Columbia, Canada….
    And meet like the waters where time stood…

    you have done that for me… made time stand still… I am all smiles for the remembering!
    Thank you for sharing this beautiful post

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    • I can imagine that where you lived in British Columbia may’ve been similiar. We were in the Lakes of Kilarney area, which is quite splendid and lovely with sudden views that gently took your breath away. There was actually a place called “The Meeting of the Waters” where we would sit and rest after riding our bicycles many many miles around the middle/Muckross lake (Muckross is a wonderful mansion house and estate). I am so glad my piece brought back some beautiful memories for you!

      Thank YOU!

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  3. Diane,

    I totally soaked up every word of this and every smidgen of emotion that was evoked in me while reading it! I feel completely filled with the place, the experience, the everything!!

    I wish I could writ like this

    Much love

    Christine xx

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    • Hi Christine!

      I’m so glad you could experience, even just a little, of what I did in this visit to the Lakes of Kilarney. I so fell in love with Ireland and all the time I spent there (far too brief…) was very very special and unforgettable.

      And, I have to add that your writing is quite beautiful…you always touch the words with wonderful honesty and your lyrical spirit!

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  4. Hello my beautiful friend! This is so lovely! The imagery is so lush and leisurely…. like a dream! Always such a pleasure to visit you here. Hoping to catch up SOON! Hugs & love, Angela

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  5. WHAt a magical ramble you folks enjoyed in Eire, back in 1985! I spent my childhood traveling across fields and meadows and creeks and around ponds and gates in rural Mississippi in the seemingly idyllic (as I remember now!) 1950s.

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  6. There are so many delightful lines in here it’s hard to pick any out, but I think ‘To stray. Even from each other. And meet like the waters where time stood. But not too still’… Utterly evocative, what wonderful memories to capture, and your pictures beautiful as ever. The first one reminds me a September a couple of years ago, picking blackberries, rosehips and plums then my best friend and I turning our hand to plum chutney, blackberry jam and our first attempt at rosehip jelly (some bottles more successful than others). So, I had the double delight of having some of my own special memories being evoked, then slipping away from myself into the delightful world you paint (with your words this time!) so beautifully…

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    • It is always rewarding to share something that others can find their own memories and delight in! That is what sharing is all about, I think. Thank you for your beautiful comment that makes my piece even more meaningful to me.

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  7. Wonderful, descriptive writing, Diane. Did you write it in 1985? Have you changed it at all before posting it here? This lovely piece of writing is like a rediscovered treasure, originally found during your walk and now brought to light again. I too loved the lines highlighted by Laurel, also the final line with its inherent contradiction, which somehow, in the context, isn’t a contradiction at all. Beautiful painting, too.

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    • Yes, I did write it in 1985 (I first wrote 1895…ah, a year I remember well…but that’s another story…). I edited it a little…but very little. I was surprised to go back to something I’d written so long ago and feel I could share it now without rewriting. Very rare, for me at least, to consider it ‘a rediscovered treasure’ rather than an embarrassment.

      Contradiction is something that–perhaps too often–creeps into my writing. But it seems so inherent in life and love and everything so why not express it so? Thanks so much for your warm engaging comment! Hope you are very well.

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    • Hi! Thanks for your visit and kind commment! I just went over to your blog and read a couple of your poems and liked them very much. Keep up the good work (for writing poetry is always good work)!

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