A Terrible Beauty is Born

This very short blog is a play on the words of our famous poet William Butler Yeats.

Floods3 Floods4Floods1 Floods2


It’s been a very rough December and into this new year for a huge number of people here in Ireland. The flooding has been catastrophic across huge swathes of the country and it will take a long time to recover. Fortunately, looking out at an incredible sunrise this Friday morning, 8th. January 2016, we are reliably informed by our forecasters that the worst is over and many farmers and homeowners will now have to start to rebuild their homes and farms. Good luck to them all for a quick recovery.
Ireland sits on the edge of Europe and mother nature can exact a very big price when the seasonal storms visit our beautiful little Island. The water that surrounds our beautiful island, that pounds our coastline and drenches our green fields has shaped the most incredible landscape. Our Terrible Beauty.

Found some incredible footage (5 minutes) shot this year by a visitor to our shores and using a drone he captured our beautiful Atlantic shoreline and landscape in Kerry and Clare, and the words of WB Yeats immediately spring to mind.

2016. Here in Ireland we also celebrate the centenary of the birth of our Republic of which this link will give you all the details. Our beloved Poet William Butler Yeats, living in England at the time, observed as he looked back at the destruction of our Capital City of Dublin and wrote the poem Easter 1916. To look at the ‘Terrible’ destruction of the city, the many deaths of Irish volunteers and of the leaders of the rising who dreamed of a free Ireland, while also appreciating the significance of Ireland becoming an independent state, breaking free from the oppression and imperial rule of the Crown. (The beauty rising from the destruction).

Easter 1916

Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse–
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.


Have a great weekend


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