
Before you embark and get lost among Roosters Rest Woods, where a lot of photography has been taken such as here, here and here, you first have to climb the picturesque trail that wraps its way up a steep hill. The hill overlooking the neighbouring fields and farms like patchwork not visible in these photos. On the decline, before the tunnel of trees you are greeted with the curious bleating of sheep as they watch in amusement as I jump over fences and gates to disappear amongst the sitka spruces. It was a typical rainy day in Ireland when these photos were taken, not the fun kind of rain that it is a joy to watch where it bounces off everything but the misty kind where it clings to your clothes and saturates everything, and on this day – my camera lens. Although I do like this kind of mist as it adds to the effect of diffusing the scenery, blurring the boundaries of distance and softening the silhouettes of those pesky sheep.




like images from the mind of melancholy poet contemplating the meaning of it all!
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Haha Cheers Phil! X
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