The Mountains of Mourne - that part of this beautiful island that I call "home". These photographs are from Newcastle where Eliot and I had a short walk along the promenade. The dog seems to be quite engrossed in reading some of the words of the Percy French song which have been engraved on this sculpture.
"The Mountains of Mourne" by Percy French (1896)
Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight,
With people all working by day and by night.
Sure they don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat,
But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street.
At least when I asked them that's what I was told,
So I just took a hand at this digging for gold,
But for all that I found there I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
There are three more verses, but you can Google them as easily as I, if you're interested!
With temperatures rising very little above freezing point it was a crisp day but at least the sun was shining so we stopped for a picnic looking out over the Irish sea with the Mourne Mountains as our backdrop. A few hardy walkers greeted us as they strode along the sea front and Eliot enjoyed the extra attention.
It wasn't a day for sitting around and we meandered back to the car, stopping to read about Harry Ferguson's flight on Newcastle beach in 1910. The sculpture to mark that event is dramatic. I took pictures from every angle and could post a dozen or more ... sometimes a feature like this captures your imagination and with today's glorious sunshine it was just asking to be photographed.
Day off continued in Kilkeel with a warm fire and a bit of television. I may even have had a wee doze - as the rest of the afternoon appeared to pass very quickly and I never did discover who murdered the girl in the woods!
Relaxing and enjoyable. What more can you ask from a day off?
Before the ending of the day,
creator of the world, we pray
that thou with wonted love wouldst keep
thy watch around us while we sleep.
Church Hymnal (Number 66)