THREE LADIES

The Elder Rose

I don't suppose that there are many people who have a rose in their Elder tree, but we do!

  Pink Lady

I very much like roses, though I would not call myself a rose expert, nor am I a gardener

in the accepted sense. I like to allow these plants to flourish and grow to their natural height and since I have been doing so we have noticed that a quite a few people in the locality are doing the same. Roses are now showing themselves mingled with all sorts of trees and shrubs and adding colour in surprising places.

Old Rosie

Old Rosie was grown from a cutting. She has a single layer of petals with a wonderful 

scent. The only way I care for her is to remove the hips during her flowering season and 

to cut out the dead wood. Then she has the freedom to grow how ever she chooses.

Old Rosie's gift to us is her scent, which wafts through the open window on warm summer evenings such as these.

Beyond the Hedges

My walk today took me in a different direction, to locations that my eyes have seen often

not always from the angle that I now show here.

This old uninhabited and neglected farmhouse with

it's grassed over yard and rusted gate promotes questions

to which I have no answers.

In this small lush field graze cattle with lovely straight backs.

There is a proliferation of Dog Roses this year.

Another old farmhouse again uninhabited, it's buildings though are still used.

A junction where three roads meet, each with equal right of way.

Look at the sky and you will see clouds seemingly rising above the trees.

This old home hidden behind the foliage looks well cared for surrounded as it is by trees.

I am told that the occupiers are rather eccentric and it is rumoured that the woman of 

the house Bean an tí talks to the faeries.

My Journey

Woodbine/Honeysuckle

I don't know what this is except that it grows

in clumps along the road below .

The old long road.

My Journey

I took a walk along the road to see what I could see

wildflowers peeped out and wild bees sung too me

All the while the sun shone gently down over my head 

above it crows and small brown birds flew in warm air.

A hen cackled, a cock crowed in some small stone yard

in the distance a dog barked, I listened to natural sound

Delighted to be me and to stroll in harmony, stopping

here and there to rest or peer through hedgerows.

I saw through bright leaves two heavy horses grazing

one as black as turf, the other dune coloured sand.

I dreamed of a four wheeled bow-top on open road

the clop of hooves, the waft of a tail swinging gently.

A camp site by a slow stream with friends at a wood fire

black tea in my hand, the chatter and companionship.

Perfumed as we were by wild bright colourful woodbine

Lives now only in cherished memory, all gone now, gone.

Awake once more to reality, I turn find a place to sit

fill my old briar pipe to offer smoke as a tribute.

On rising the legs are renewed, the feet soothed

as I take the long road for my cottage home.

© MRL June 2015

Mrs & Mr Chicken - variety unknown

Clover

Soapwort

Dog Roses

An Old Boy's Toy

I have always wanted one of these handy garden saws ever since I saw a friend of mine, Christopher, using one years ago. He had purchased his when abroad (I can’t remember where) all I know is that his was not cheap. 

So yesterday while shopping in Lidl I spotted the old boys toy of my dreams, all for a snip - €2.99 and it looks exactly like the one C had.

The packet says that the saw cuts wood, bone and plastic tubing. I am not a surgeon or a big meat eater and my plumbing is complete so as long as it 

cuts through the prunings that are drying on the patio and dead rose stems

I shall be a happy old boy !

Almost end of Summer

The end of Summer is but a few days away November 5th/6th and it will be Samhain, it seems that nobody has told the Calendula or the Roses to stop flowering.

This red bush beyond the arch brightens the day. I have no idea

what it's name is.

The Calendula has jumped out of the planter

and looks to be very healthy

This delightful lady never ceases to bloom

Orange berries send me their name please ?

Just to the left of the picture is an Oak whose seed was germinated

by Colm Mac Con Iomaire a few years ago when he was recording at studio in France.

A certain  German silversmith whose name I shall not metion nearly killed it when using my strimmer, fortunately it recovered!

This blog will be exceptionally quiet for awhile. For am busily engaged writing a book for my Grandson Ollie who was four the other day and has now left his babyhood behind him.

Ollie at 4