Dulce et Decorum Est? (The old Lie)

The poem of this name was one we had to learn in school.  The horrors of the first world war put to rest any ridiculous romantic notion of it being "Sweet and right to die for one's country." (Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.)

We will remember them...

Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep.  Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod.  All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!---An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,---
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen.

(See link for more on this poem).

Rescue

There we were in Jacob's of Baltimore sitting having a coffee and ice cream when we heard the sound of a helicopter.  We looked out the window and it was the big Rescue 'copter from Shannon.  There was a bit of a commotion outside so we decided to investigate.  Here's the news story (source):

Baltimore RNLI Lifeboat crews went to the assistance of a yacht which reported a man overboard 1 mile to the east of Baltimore Beacon. Baltimore all weather lifeboat Hilda Jarrett under the command of coxswain Kieran Cotter and Baltimore inshore lifeboat Bessie, helmed by John Kearney were alerted at 15:21 this afternoon (28 August 2010).

A 32 ft yacht sailing out of Schull Harbour with four adults and one child on board suffered an unexpected gybe when sailing downwind. A crewmember was struck by the boom and knocked overboard in a semi-conscious condition. Fortunately he was wearing a lifejacket. The crew of the yacht were unable to recover the casualty who was plucked from the water by a motor boat in the vicinity.

Two Baltimore lifeboat crewmembers boarded the rescuing vessel to offer medical assistance as the boat returned to Baltimore Harbour. Meanwhile Coastguard Helicopter 115 from Shannon, had arrived on scene and due to the condition of the causalty, winched him on board for rapid transfer to Cork University Hospital. Baltimore Lifeboat coxswain Kieran Cotter commented afterwards ' the mans life had been saved by the wearing of a lifejacket'.

This brought out the latent photojournalist in me:  

"What you lookin' at?!"

Audience

Getting Ready

Got 'im

RNLI man - job well done.  

Well done to the rescue services.  I hope and pray that the rescued man is now OK.  

All pictures taken with Nikon F100 film camera and a 50mm lens, using Ilford FP4 plus Black and White film.  

"My lovely horse..."

We came across these friendly fella's on a walk near Courtmacsherry.  On looking at the picture now I can't help but laugh as I remember the Father Ted episode "A song for Europe", with the "My Lovely Horse" music video.  They don't make 'em like that any more.  Ha Ha LOL !

My lovely horse, running through the fields.
Where are you going with your fetlocks blowing in the wind?
I want to shower you with sugar lumps and ride you over fences.
Polish your hooves every single day, and bring you to the horse dentist....

In my Father's house...

Olympus OM-1, G.Zuiko 35mm f2.8, Yellow Filter, Ilford FP4 plus, ISO 125

...there are many mansions. 

These words of Jesus (from John 14) have ever since they were first spoken, been a source of tremendous hope and encouragement to Christians down through the centuries.  No matter what this world and what this life throws at us we know that Jesus has prepared a home in heaven for all those who would seek to follow Him in this life. 

I continue to be amazed by this.  I know that I am not good enough to be called one of Jesus’ friends and I could write an endless list of reasons why I shouldn’t go to heaven.  I have every sympathy with the Apostle Paul when he said:

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. (Romans 7:15)

Time and time again we become aware of the battle between what we know is the right thing to do and what we naturally want to do, the battle between “the flesh” and “the spirit”, often portrayed in cartoons as the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other, each trying to win the mind of the person trapped in the middle! 

If the Apostle Paul struggled with this then we are in good company.  He goes on to say:

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (v24, 25a)

Yes we inhabit “bodies of death” but thank God that we are rescued from them by what Jesus did for us on the cross. 

The picture above brought all this to mind.  I have passed by many times on my way between Ballinascarthy and Pedlar’s cross.  It is a sad sight.  Recently I had a bit of time to spare before a home visit so I decided to drop in.  There was no one at home although it had been used fairly recently by a chain-smoking tabloid-reading occupant.  I could have gone upstairs but I didn’t want to, I felt like I was trespassing.  I couldn’t help but feel sad for the person who had lived here last, who had poured so much of their life into this place, in keeping it clean, in decorating, in tending the garden.  I thought of the long gone days when the steam train would have been visible on the old railway behind the house; the white puffs of steam and jolly passengers making their way to or from West Cork.  I could almost hear the echoes of voices, calling from the kitchen that dinner was ready or the sound of laughter as children played in the garden (if they ever did I don’t know).  The tall trees stand like silent spectators all around. If they could, I wonder what story they would tell?

Everything that we take for granted every day is just so temporary, so transient that we would do well and wisely not to cling on to it too tightly.  Thank God that our home prepared by Jesus in the next life is a home that is permanent and where ‘moth and rust’ do not destroy and where thieves do not ‘break in and steal’ (Matt.6:19).  We do not deserve this home but we have a God who specialises in Grace – undeserved favour.   

Follow me!

Olympus OM-1, G.Zuiko 35mm f2.8, Ilford FP4 plus, (developed in Ilfosol 3, 6 mins @ 24^o)

We had great fun watching this mother duck and her ducklings (all twelve of them) make their way from a stream then across a road and finally into the lake at Fota recently.  At the first attempt the mother just hopped out and charged off and then realised that there were no little ones following her.  They were left stranded because the bank was too high for them to jump up.  So the mother duck had to go back and lead them to a place further down stream where they could climb / hop out.  Then they made their procession towards the lake as you see in the picture.  I wonder how many of these twelve cute fluffy ducklings will survive to adulthood - I expect they make a fine lunch for several different predators?

Following is not always easy but we have the perfect Leader who looks after us in ways beyond our understanding and will ultimately lead us to our final destination.  Of course we can choose to go off on our own way but that is a path where we lead ourselves to certain death.  Thankfully Jesus comes looking for us and longs to bring us back into the fold (getting into a knot of mixed metaphors here)!  But He will never force us against our will, we have to be willing to follow Him knowing that it really is the only sensible option, but more than that, it is the way to the fullness of life and love and joy and peace and forgiveness...

Mange Tout

Olympus OM-1, G.Zuiko 35mm (with yellow filter), Ilford FP4 plus, (pushed to ISO 400 in Ilfosol 3)

My better half has created the wonderful beginnings of a vegetable plot in a small area of the garden by the back door.  There are potatoes, cabbages, raspberries, strawberries, lettuces, radishes, a few other things that I'm not sure of and one of our favourites, Mange Tout.  (Since the above photo was taken they have grown quite a bit and are now supported by a clever arrangement of canes and string.)

When I was at school there was a strange sort of limbo time after all our A-level exams and before the end of term.  The boarding school was in the middle of nowhere in the Suffolk countryside and there was not a whole lot to do.  Someone had the bright idea that we could go and earn some money on a local farm, so off we went  cycling five miles or so to a farm that needed people to pick the crop of Mange Tout.  It was back-breaking work, it was baking hot but all quite good fun.  I'll never forget the first day, we were surrounded by all sorts of interesting people from many different places who had very little English but could pick Mange Tout so fast their hands were just a blur.  I was quite proud of my several basketfuls and was convinced that my hard labour would earn me a small fortune.  As the day was coming to an end we were paid - I got seven pounds!  On the cycle back to school we stopped off at a pub, bought a meal and a drink and had about twenty pence left over.  But what happy times they were. 

Carmarthenshire

The Beach at Amroth

Olympus OM-1, G. Zuiko 35mm, Ilford FP4 plus (pushed to ISO 400)

Aberaeron

Olympus OM-1, G. Zuiko 35mm, Ilford FP4 plus (pushed to ISO 400)

It's probably the Welsh blood in my veins but there is just something about the Carmarthenshire coast.  It's not especially spectacular when compared to say the West Coasts of Ireland or Scotland but it has its very own beauty.  The beach rambler would never tire of the sheer variety of coastline, vast sandy beaches, small rocky coves, cliffs and dunes, the abundant wildlife (and even the good ol' tacky amusement arcade here and there).  Many childhood memories are brought to mind in these places - lemonade in glass bottles, sandwiches with more sand in them than ham or cheese, Granddad with a knotted handkerchief on his head, huddled in a bus shelter in the rain whilst eating salty chips, my grandparents Morris Minor. Ah yes what a wonderful place and what special memories.

Now as we occasionally get to travel across we witness a new generation of grandchildren accumulating wonderful memories, as plentiful as the shells gathered into their seaside buckets.  The world might be a slightly different place - lemonade is now called different things and comes in a plastic bottle, chips no longer come packaged in yesterdays newspaper and many other changes which on their own are tiny but when put together represent a subtly different world.  The new generation of Grandparents though are just the same, just as loving and doting and instrumental in passing on to their grandchildren that love and kindness which will still be there when their turn comes, as it surely will, when they will watch their own grandchildren run about in frenzied joy in a world that is the same but different.

Church on the HIll

Nikon F100, Nikkor 18-35 f3.5-4.5 D, Ilford FP4 Plus (ISO 125)

I thought it was about time I put up a picture of some of the church buildings in the parish.  Others to follow in due course but first up is Kilgarriffe Church in Clonakilty.  This photo was taken on St. Patrick's Day and I have just developed the film so it is only appearing now.  The building dates from 1818 and is situated on a hill (and so is known locally as "The Church on the Hill").  What more can I say - the people who go there are far more interesting than the building itself!

Regular visitors to this blog will have noticed a slight redesign - this was forced upon me when I was trying out Google's Chrome Browser.  Somehow it managed to make a few layout changes without my telling it to.   I'm a bit scared of tinkering with HTML and have not managed to undo all the damage but I am pleased with the slightly new layout for the moment.

Watching and Waiting

Nikon F100, Nikkor 28-105 f3.5-4.5 D, Ilford FP4 plus (ISO 125), (Click to enlarge)

We were putting out some old dried bread onto the bird table with the unmistakable feeling of being watched. I turned around and there they were, waiting for us to leave so that they could tuck in! Someone commenting on this picture on photo.net said it was like something out of a Hitchcock film, maybe the black and white makes it look a bit sinister but in reality it was quite funny - we weren't attacked by them or anything.

Waiting patiently for things is not a forte of mine so maybe these birds have a lesson to teach me. Also I am reminded of some lovely words from Psalm 130

I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.

I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.