Since starting this adventure way back when in France, I have always been fascinated by the changing seasons. Living in the countryside in France the seasons were vastly different; and living here on this beautiful small island of Ireland, situated with the wild Atlantic on one side and the Irish Sea on the other, there is no escaping the changes in the seasons.
St Brigid’s Day on the 1st of February is considered the first day of Spring in rural Ireland. I understand now why my dad taught me a different season cycle from the traditional March, April May being Spring. He was born on a farm, the lambs start to be born in February, so following nature’s lead surely that is when the time of rebirth begins.
I have felt the same about the Autumn, we start to bring in the harvest in August, ready to batten down the hatches for winter so traditionally for me Autumn has always been August, September and October. Our old walnut tree in Montaigu would start to drop her walnuts in late August, and the swifts would start to gather for their long flight to warmer climes; and, of course, the farmers would turn the fields around us into breathtaking works of art. Never to be forgotten.
I have been off work this month so on a beautiful sunny morning, with all my chores done, I decided to get out one of our camping chairs and sit in the garden with the Welshies.
The sun shining through the trees was warm and glorious, and I sat looking at Wiglet, as she stood illuminated by the sun, knowing it was a moment to treasure. But every now and then the wind would blow a cold whisper on my skin, and before I knew it dark clouds blew in, covering the sun and bringing with them a burst of hail and rain, and we were running for cover. That is where Ireland is unique, being situated in the Atlantic the weather can change in a millisecond. They do tell you to dress for all seasons out here!
Every day we have had rainbows illuminating the skies. And every time they make me smile, and I think to myself how many pots of gold there must be out there? The leprechauns must have been really busy burying each pot at the end of all these rainbows.
It’s been the same all week, and I have been reminded of the Aesop Fable ’The Wind and The Sun’, where they do battle to see who can get the traveller to remove his coat. With warm sunshine one minute, followed by howling winds and rain literally the next, it is clear that Winter and Spring are currently doing battle here in Donegal, to be the dominant season. And like the sun in Aesop’s Fable I know which one will win!
At the moment as I sit here writing this with the two sleeping Welshies, I have bright sunshine shining through the window at the front my house, and black skies and hailstones hitting the windows in the back! And another rainbow is being made.
Spring is on her way, but my fire is alight, because Spring has a long way to go before she wins the battle.