Shame

The trial was irretrievably over; everything that could be said had been said, but he had never doubted that he would lose.

Sugar Loaf

An opening from a recently heralded trio of books that were all the more curious for being published posthumously.  And a walk that was just too long for my companion. At ten, following a sleepover with almost no sleep, 7.5 km climbing up towards Djouce from Curtlestown via the Glencree River was just too much. The scenery at the splendid lookout to Powerscourt Waterfall didn't matter once the tiredness took over and that happened at 7.5 km which meant there was still 7.5 km to walk back to the car. Mostly downhill but still way too much especially since it the entire walk took over five hours. Still, we had a memorable picnic in a hollow tree.

The walk didn't kill him but herons, trout in the streams, grazing deer, our first cuckoo and kestrels were lost in his tiredness. I've said sorry. So has he.

There were some shameful things to see in the Glencree River; beer cans, shopping trolleys, plastic bags and assorted discards left by careless people. And then as we were watching little trout darting in the light dappled waters, a rubber suited, river walking troupe appeared - they seemed to be panning for gold - their activity seemed barbaric when you consider the wildlife in that protected beauty spot. 

VS Naipul told us that men who are nothing have no place in our world in opening A Bend in the River (back in blog 12, Forge).