The Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
— William Butler Yeats
This year brought us a wonderful and mild Christmas morning. A little out of the ordinary to not be frozen on Christmas day especially on Ireland’s rugged north-west coast. We decided to put on our gladrags and take a saunter through the stunning woodlands of Hazelwood forest. We certainly deserved our Christmas feast after this walk. As you can see, it was a picturesque day and we made the most of it. It was great to see so many people out walking their dogs, going for their morning jog and soaking up the festive spirit.
Such an important part of the year to be surrounded by your family and loved ones. As I travel back to Australia today after one of the most spectacular Christmases I have had in a long time, I am grateful my sisters persuaded me into putting my boots on on Christmas morning and embraced the magical wonderland right on our doorstep.
Til next Christmas
Go mbeirimid beo ar an am seo arís