A soft day

A soft day, thank God!
A wind from the south
With a honeyed mouth;
A scent of drenching leaves,
Briar and beech and lime,
White elder-flower and thyme
And the soaking grass smells sweet,
Crushed by my two bare feet,
While the rain drips,
Drips, drips, drips from the eaves.

A soft day, thank God!
The hills wear a shroud
Of silver cloud;
The web the spider weaves
Is a glittering net;
The woodland path is wet,
And the soaking earth smells sweet
Under my two bare feet,
And the rain drips,
Drips, drips, drips from the leaves.
Winifred M Letts


Bare feet were not in evidence- the wellies were firmly on. The wind has dropped, the murk come down and a soft rain is falling. 
I'm going off piste for a couple of days - over the border to County Limerick. Three wells dedicated to St Gobnait beckon. I need to know if they're there or not - two out of three I reckon but in what state I don't know. There might be a few others on the list! We're rendezvousing with our pals in Macroom and will take it from there. Wellies, mac and well kit packed. Catch you mid week.