Buachalán buí

Ragwort thou humble flower with tattered leaves 
I love to see thee come and litter gold'.
John Clare    c.1835. 

This little window continues to fascinate, it can't hold on much longer.  The walls around it have blackened, the ferns are taking hold and the ragwort has leapt up in abandon all around it. Who knows what lies within - access is impossible I've tried. And ragwort is now considered a noxious weed causing liver damage to horse sand cattle that may eat it. Once farmers were fined if they had it on their land but that must have eased for it is rampant everywhere. 


A gloomy day after yesterday, chilly too. I have been nipping up and down to Kilcrohane with card and book orders, and wrestling with New Zealand flights in between. The head is well and truly fuzzled. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel.