The Twelve Bens…

for Lynn yesterday morning, striding in their shawls of rain and, later, sun-blasted, and today dappled under running clouds. I start to understand why we love them, not just their hard grey, white and blue beauty but also their companionability as they pose together in a semicircle behind the lake, a group of friends, arms around each others’ shoulders, as we did yesterday smiling at the camera, remembering our late, great friend who loved the Glencoaghan horseshoe; loved to name the mountains, Derryclare, Ben Lettery, Bengowar; who gathered us together yesterday between mountains and estuary, in a blue and white house with seven welcoming doors.

65