Our garden is beginning to show the first tentative signs of spring. The snowdrops are shyly peeping out from underneath their green hoods, the resilient daffodils are pushing their way through the cold sodden earth, the seasons are on the change again with Spring starting to wake up and assert itself over the land.
The garden is still very much a wilderness in a lot of ways but I am hoping – like Spring – to assert my authority over this patch of the planet I call home. (But I’m aiming for a benevolent dictatorship :))
Spring bulbs have always inspired me, given me hope and stopped me in my tracks to admire and just be. Not something I do often enough.
But this spring – and its still officially winter in Ireland anyway but more of that another time 😉 – I feel more invigorated by the emergence of the spring bulbs than ever. Maybe its to do with turning 40 in April (yes, I’m a spring baby :)or maybe its to do with the long overdue announcement yesterday by what passes for our government that we are to have the general election on March 11. AT LAST! It feels as if maybe, just maybe, Ireland will begin to emerge from the years of Fianna Fáil misrule, from the years of parish-pump politics and gombeenism, and finally, finally become a happier, healthier, better place to be. Like the spring bulbs, we are surrounded by dead wood, by overgrowth and by decay. But we are still alive and we are emerging again.