I grew up in County Meath.
It is a comfortable place, in many ways. The people have the contented assurance that the land will provide and proximity to Dublin gave a certain sophistication.
It is also the county in Ireland that has been described as being closest to England, in habits and tastes. I don't know if this is true, but in the 1950's so many people emigrated to Britain, and came back often, that I thought of England as an extension of my little life.
The poetry we were taught in school, however, had a sadness that is hard to understand nowadays. Longing for idylls past, desires for freedom, both personal and political, wafted through our classrooms as if we were all in bondage and waiting to be freed.
It was a strange construct to offer little children, but when I make photos today they link to a wider context that is now invisible, if not actually impossible to recreate.
Francis Ledgwidge was always my favourite.
He enhanced the sense of communication with the beautiful countryside and gentle gardens I knew so well.
This is a tribute to his memory...
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