The liminal point

The weather is mild on this last day of the year. A coat is not really needed to walk the lane. It seems a strange warmth not the crisp cold which normally catches your breath and freezes your fingers at this time of year. It is gentle and green, soft and still full of life.

Herb Robert that should have ceased flowering around October is still here and the pale petals of blackberry blossom are clustered around the sharp thorns of a sheltered bramble in the hedgerow.

Ash  buds are forming on tall new branches. Things are happening.

The mill stream ’s cool waters flow past the leaves of brilliant red and green and ferns and grasses are luminous in bright greens.

Tomorrow, a new year.

This afternoon looking at the dusk beginning to close over the hills above the lough it is easy to feel connected to the ancient past. it is a ‘thin’ place I think, this place of ancient tropical seas,early settlers, dolmens, caves and potholes in a limestone world.

This is a place of the border and the lane and its inhabitants will have to wait and watch what happens in these modern times. 


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