We made a shorter journey earlier today when we went to Cloon Oak Glen in Co. Wicklow. The glen was once home to a royal oak forest (from, I think, the 13th century onwards) but had been hugely diminished by the end of the 19th century, although in the early 20th century, J.M. Synge was still able to write:
|Iz turns her back on poetry: To the Oaks of Glencree, J.M. Synge|
|Young oak and autumn light|
|This year's growth and ripening berries on wild holly in the glen|
|Gnarly bark of an old ash tree|
|Plum tomatoes, still ripening in the lovely late Autumn weather|
|Bamboo heaven - the Fargesia jiuzhaigou on the left are the outdoor 'curtain'|
|Winter colour for Da's grave|
In the two years I think I've accomplished some of what I set out to do, some of the time. But I worry now that the words are running out. Could this be that since I'm spending more of my (precious) 'spare' time drawing and thinking in a visual way that I'm finding the words harder to find? Could it be also that any seasonal blog is going to start repeating itself, all the more so when it's coming from a small space, and maybe that's just not satisfying? And then there's the fact that this is a bit of a duck-billed platypus of a blog: it's not about one thing, it's about bits and pieces--my garden, the natural world, poems, music, science, drawing--and so it hasn't found its niche really. So-o-o, I'm wondering whether I shall continue. Over the next few weeks as I finish out the two years, I'll have a bit of a think about it.
Have a good week all.