LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE

Some may be unaware of how Clay and Wattles came to be named, so here is a link to W. B. Yeats reading his poem in which it is described.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

I called this blog Clay and Wattles way before we moved back home, back here, but I have 

been blessed with

My Innisfree... 

Our home in the woods.

Our mother's home we have worked on so hard to restore and keep warm with life and memories.

Our small and sometimes separate projects.

Our family ties and connections.

Local honey, cornmeal and fresh vegetables from my best friend's hives and gardens.

Mists over the roads and trees, draping damply, hanging in soft gray shrouds.

Sun burns through and the day sparkles with eastern light and promise.

All sorts of insects chirruping in all seasons.

Peaceful here.

Wind in the pines

Stars that are visible at night.

Moon that lights the dark north trees.

Sunsets that fall over the place we lived for over 40 years, and now behind the trees that surround us.

There is no lake - at least not that we can walk to - but so near, all around in the hills and waterways. 

And ponds at nearby homes.

I walk through the trails in the woods and listen to the waving trees and the silence. 

The soft scuffle of hushed pine straw, the cats hide and seeking in the trees.

We walk on our paved road nearby, just a piece...

When we have to venture to the city and now even town, I can hardly wait to get back to my deep heart's core.

God knows, listens to my deep heart's core.

It comforts me also to know that Mama Nick was happy we wanted to be here. She told me she had no idea anyone would want to live here! This has always been part of my heart, everything I just said and more.