Ah..Ireland. Poets have long praised the country for its lush rolling green hills, the warmth of its people and the reasurring familiarity of its pubs. But there's a beauty here that no word nor photo can truly capture. It's in the fine mist and grey fog that wraps around you. It's in the ground pregnant with rain yielding under your footprint. It's the earthy scent of a peat moss fire that settles into your clothes.
This particular photo is taken at a sixth century monastery at Glendalough in Co. Wicklow.
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