Children Of Lir.

This was the view from my balcony at lunchtime today.

As I'm on a bit of Yeats jag at the moment, I thought this was appropriate..

Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven.

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats.

Aedh was one of the Children of Lir, turned into swans by a malicious step-mother.

I'm a bit worried about this family. They live just downriver from me, but had four cygnets a few months ago.

I fear Mr. Fox has learned how to swim....


Addendum.

This blip is too dark.

Here is some sunshine, and solid proof that The Irish are the Blacks Of Europe.

I know these lads, and they are mad enough to provide the soundtrack to my life....

(PS, Tog E Go Bog E means "Take It Easy")