A photographic and poetic journey. Two days ago I left Morvern to come back to the cabin. There are things moving here that require my time and attention.
On my last day before the morning bus rides that would take me south of Glasgow, I took a stroll down to a favourite spot with Anne.
I am adding the wonderful words of William Butler Yeats from his poem ‘The Stolen Child’ to accompany my photos from the walk.
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we’ve hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he’s going,
The solemn-eyed:
He’ll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than he can understand.
Such a beautiful pairing, Paul. Your images and Yeats’s lines feel like they're made for each other, a quiet little spell cast along your Morvern path. My favourite is the one above this line ... "and chase the frothy bubbles". It looks like it could be a short-held, long exposure. I'm married to a photographer, so have learnt a little over the years. It's beautiful. Thanks so much for sharing. 🙏💖
It's a long time since I've read that in full, thank you Paul, it seems more apt each day, sadly. Beautiful photos, and a lovely idea to intersperse the poem, it slows down the scroll and lets the beauty drift in.