In the absence of Steve Shaw I thought I’d do the honours put up a few pics of spring flowers. I am not a photographer of flowers and don’t even have a lens that will really come close enough to do a good job but here are a few to start with, from a walk around the West and North side of Sliabh Elva earlier this afternoon.
First a few of the usual flowers, primroses that are abundant all around, an orchid and more Burren specific, spring gentians.
Walking around the mountain, just below where the blanket bog of the higher levels meets the limestone pavement, the road was lined with the usual unusual stones:
At some point we came across a Holy Well, this one looked most like an underground river that had collapsed in a few places, one of them was used as the site of a well. Usually there’s a story connected to these wells which explains why they are considered ‘blessed’ but I don’t know the story of this one.
A concrete cross marked the spot, dominating an older piece of limestone pavement that was placed up right. There were gifts of money inside, some images of saints and the usual bits and pieces.
We basically walked for a few hours without seeing a living soul, which was nice. On the way down we met two Italian girls on a walking holiday, when we overtook them one of them asked me to take a picture with her camera while they walked the road over the mountain, overlooking the sea. She gave me her camera and the two walked on ahead, hand in hand.
Those really are interesting rock shapes. I’m surprised no-one is using them to build zen-like gardens. Those type of stones used to bring a fortune in China for those who could afford to build a private garden.
Again, you've made me pine for Ireland.
I spent a single week there two years ago, and have been dying to return ever since -- this time with my kids. Before then, I'd always said that there are too many places on the earth to visit any one of them more than once. Then I went to Ireland. I hope it retains its charm for a long time. I know some places are beginning to succumb to commercialization and industrialization (notably - the cliffs of Moher), but still I feel drawn. Someday ....
I just can’t imagine being someplace that has primroses in abundance! I have never even seen them growing wild. What could be more beautiful? And those gentians—how blue can something be? Our flowers were set back by a late freeze so it is nice to at least see lovely pictures of flowers. I’m glad you showed them to us.
Ah, Cynth they’re all along the roadside, growing wild in the garden and under the bushes along our road it’s all primroses and bluebells at the moment, wild garlic to come in later.
Here’s some impression , taken yesterday and that wasn’t really a spot where there were many. They get a bit lost, more so making the image smaller for posting here but you can see specks of them all over the grassy bits.
I can definitely see the little clumps in the photo.
I read a bit about them. They are native to western and southern Europe and the British Isles, so I suppose that’s why I have never seen them in the wild. Apparently they have been collected so much that in some areas their numbers are declining and now they cannot be picked or messed with unless you have permission from the land owner. I also read that there is a danger of the wild type hydridizing with garden hybrids (which I have seen and which are lovely, but not in the way the wild ones are). Some plants have pin flowers and some have thrum flowers. You only get seeds from pin to thrum pollination. My goodness. Take good care of those lovely little plants! Primula vulgaris, Common Primroses
Unknown
Date: 1840
AT lower levels that is actually true in places, there are ‘stormbeaches’ near Doolin, a bit further north and for example on the Arran islands on top of a 30 meter cliff where the force of the ocean has dislocated big slabs of limestone (sometimes the size of a car) and thrown them in big heaps sometimes quite some way inland. Some of this is associated with a big natural event that took place in the 9th century but anyone who walked the coastline after a big storm will know the process is still ongoing.
And then ofcourse there’s an abundance of glacial erratics:
On monday evening I was outside the house and heard the first cuckoo calling on the mountain. He’s been calling on and off there ever since. Summer has arrived.
In our family collection of slides, there is one of my aunt (taken in the early 50s) in a beautiful flowy, chiffony, layery dress just the color of those gentians. Every time I’d see that slide when I was a kid I’d want a dress just that color. About as close to a true blue as you can get in a flower.
I don’t know that I’ve ever heard a cuckoo - don’t think I’ve ever lived anyplace they’re indigenous. (I see in Wikipedia that they’re in the same family as roadrunners and we do have those in southern Utah.)
Spring flowers all about here…I go outside and can smell my neighbor’s lilacs, one of my all-time favorite smells. A little six-year-old boy was helping my daughter dig holes and plant a couple of small lilac bushes last week. One of the bushes had a few blooms on it. Little Diego took a deep breath of lilac fragrance and said, “I love spring! Everything smells so good!” Amen.
After a really miserable wet and stormy winter we had over a month of lovely weather without rain. The land went from totally saturated to dry, was walking up the bog near the house earlier this week and it was drier up there than I have seen it for a long time. Earlier this week we had tw odays of rain but it’s beautiful again now. Along our road there’s an abundance of blackthorns and gorsebushes in full bloom, the apple tree in from of the house is blossoming and the other fruit trees, the lilac and all sort of other stuff as well.
The cuckoo is very special, it’s only around so briefly the Irish papers headline it’s first arrival, by July they’re leaving again. You rarely see them but last year we had one all evening in one of the trees in our hedgerow. And it was unbelievably loud.
