The Pride of his Eye

What's riches to him
That has made a great peacock
With the pride of his eye?
The wind-beaten, stone-grey,
And desolate Three Rock
Would nourish his whim.
Live he or die
Amid wet rocks and heather,
His ghost will be gay
Adding feather to feather
For the pride of his eye.
WBYeats



The wildlife is getting very exotic around here and admire the fuchsia. Yes, that is the road snaking off to the left. I had to stop on the summit of the hill and speak nicely to these two lads hoping no one else was coming up or down! They have a view though. Yeats obviously took the same route.
Pottering sort of day - domestic goddess stuff in the morning, a wrestle with holy wells and a quick trip to Bantry to get some fat balls! Quite enough for one day.