December 2016

The turn of the year – and hope…

the lengthening of the days.
But you can feel it.



With the falling of the last leaves, the once-solid density of woodland once again becomes single, individual trees…

Separating back,
Winter woods un-wood.



Tá ceol i ngach a’n áit….

Cuaifeach gaoithe,
streancán ard gheata iarainn.
Cuaichín cheoil.



Final edible mushroom foraging of the season…

Pushing through gold leaves,
creamy heads bursting upwards.
Smelling of the Earth.



The colours, this Autumn, ah, the colours…

Silver, the bare trees,
Bronze, the path through the chestnuts,
Gold, the rippling tide.


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