I know a few places like this, where you find a tiny seductive island in a remote mountain lake. It wouldn’t be unduly difficult to swim out to these little outcrops and pitch a tent there for the night. I don’t think I’ll ever do it, either in Wales or the Lake District or the Pyrenees, because I don’t see the reward in doing so. But I gaze at these tiny places, and wonder, and think perhaps of WB Yeats and The Lake Island of Innisfree. “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.” Yeats used to be my favourite poet. What he does here is emulate the sound of water with some lovely assonance, and juxtapose city living with nature. When you walk the hills regularly, you develop an imaginative life which is not only located in a physical place.


Mountain Photography: Romedo De Dalt Island

Friday November 9, 2012