A sunny but cold morning in Kilmacurragh Gardens over the Easter weekend. The rhododendrons at their peak. Probably all gone now. I should have asked my husband to stand beside this one while I was painting so I could give it a sense of scale. It was big.
'All quiet on Howth now. The distant hills seem. Where we. The rhododendrons. I am a fool perhaps. He gets the plums, and I the plumstones. '
(James Joyce, Ulysses)
Lovely and very delicate...
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