Autumn in Glendalough

Having grown up in Wicklow, I miss the autumn colour. We have beautiful autumns in West Cork although the colour doesn’t come so much from the trees turning as from the changing landscape.

Wicklow is a classic Autumn Colour location and nowhere is better for the experience that Glendalough. It’s just starting at the moment, with some of the trees turning, but it will be in full swing over the next two weeks. These photographs were taken on our last autumn visit.

Glendalough is particularly gorgeous because it has many woodland walks. It’s in the Wicklow Mountains National Park, so the woodlands are well protected and accessible.

Many people who visit Glendalough only see the main area (the location of the round tower), but a walk to Trinity Church is a magical experience. You even pass a holy well on the way – that’s our pal Amanda of Holy Wells of Cork and Kerry, delighted with the discovery of this one.

The ancient churches and towers of Glendalough, with their walls of cool grey granite, make the perfect counterpoint to the red and yellows of the autumn leaves.

What follows is really a photographic homage to a Glendalough autumn – no more words, just scroll and enjoy. Oh – and try to get there in the autumn sometime.

15 thoughts

  1. I was reading, yesterday, that although Ireland claims to have 11% forestry cover (one of the lowest in Europe) the true figure is only about 1% as the rest is commercial forestry, mainly sitka spruce, which contributes little to the environment. Lovely to see those gorgeous colours in broad-leafed woodland. Let’s hope policy changes will happen and our descendants will be able to experience that all over the country.

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  2. Gorgeous Finola, thank you so much for posting this, it will be lovely when Ireland has more woods. You can never have too many.

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      • I sure do. I am with a writer’s group called Abraxas Writers in Bray. One of our older writers, an American who had retired from the US Military spent the latter years of his life in Wicklow. When he died some five years ago we buried a tiny little metal box containing his ashes in Glendalough by the little Glenealo river that flows down by the miners works. Every year we vistt that spot and recite a few poems and recall many of the little eccentricity of our deceased friend. Each time we visit I think of how much he would appreciate a little part of him residing in such a sacred and beautiful place.

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