In search of summer flowers

Tags

destinations, flowers, harebells, journeys, photographs, poems., summer

They say it’s not the destination but the journey.

I agree .

It is how I go in search of summer flowers.

These flowers are never at my destination

(I am usually cycling to the shop or a cafe or even a pub)

but along my way.

which is why a lot of the time,

it takes me a long time

to get to where I originally set out for.

because I constantly

get lost among summer flowers instead.

Once I tried to find out how many flowering species existed in the west of Ireland

but I couldn’t get a straight answer.

Couldn’t even attempt to count them

Maybe like the ‘journey not the destination’ philosophy, it doesn’t matter.

Maybe what is more important than the knowing of numbers and names

is the stopping and getting off the yellow bicycle.

and really truly SEEING them

(including the odd looking ones)

Contemplating them.

Getting down on hands and knees and smelling them.

Of all flowers of the summer, the harebell is my love.

I think you will have guessed that by now.

I have spent hours in their company.

 I Have even written a poem in honor of them.

THE HAREBELL.

~

Look at you

Mo Spalpeen* Mo Storeen*

 just a little slip of a thing 

 blue bonnet buffered by the breeze,

 translucent as though made from fairies wings 

I glimpse the sunlight through your skin.

your strong in spite of it

standing your ground you nod at northwest gales

And even when white horses whip the darkened sea

you don’t give in

but toss your head and look the other way

We could learn a lesson from you A ghra Mo chroi*.

~

*Mo spalpeen: My little rascal.

*Mo Storeen: My Little Love.

* A ghra mo chroi : love of my heart.

(sometimes I make flower foot prints in the sand)