This post is about flowers. I think the next one will be about birdsong.
Our second winter in Ireland ended on St. Bridget's Day, February 1, with arrival snowdrops.
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| Bridget's Cross on Bridget's Snow |
I had never heard of snowdrops until my friend invited me to a celebration of snowdrops at Glenvea gh
Glenveagh is the national park about 30 minutes' drive from us. We've been there many times, hiking the trails. Apparently the garden is world-famous, but I never entered its walls. Seeing it for the first time in winter gives me a baseline.
First, we had a nice tea in the gardener's cottage.
That deer is the emblem of the castle.
Photo of the former gardener who worked at the castle for 50 years.
Present gardener, Sean, naming the snowdrop varieties for us.
Snowdrop enthusiasts breed and collect hundreds of varieties.
Sean and the assistant gardener.
About a dozen people came to the Snowdrop festival, including a writer who had rented oneof the houses in the park, which is an old estate. Sean asked her who she was and what she was doing in Donegal. She put her palm to her chest and shook her head, saying politely that she was a private person and didn't want to answer.
That was weird. Later, in the gardener's cottage she apologized, saying she spends a lot of time alone. My friend and I said if you're looking to be a solitary writer, don't come to rural Ireland. Everyone will know your business whether you want to or now. If you want privacy, move to Dublin.
Rural Ireland is a perfect place for a writer to live, especially a village like Dunfanaghy which has a tradition of accepting its eccentrics. People will leave you alone, for sure. But don'tbe shocked if they ask you your story.
Sean said his topiary represents Celtic knots.
The Glenveagh garden in early February.
Glenveagh is the national park about 30 minutes' drive from us. We've been there many times, hiking the trails. Apparently the garden is world-famous, but I never entered its walls. Seeing it for the first time in winter gives me a baseline.
First, we had a nice tea in the gardener's cottage.
That deer is the emblem of the castle.
Photo of the former gardener who worked at the castle for 50 years.
Present gardener, Sean, naming the snowdrop varieties for us.
Snowdrop enthusiasts breed and collect hundreds of varieties.
Sean and the assistant gardener.
About a dozen people came to the Snowdrop festival, including a writer who had rented one
That was weird. Later, in the gardener's cottage she apologized, saying she spends a lot of time alone. My friend and I said if you're looking to be a solitary writer, don't come to rural Ireland. Everyone will know your business whether you want to or now. If you want privacy, move to Dublin.
Rural Ireland is a perfect place for a writer to live, especially a village like Dunfanaghy which has a tradition of accepting its eccentrics. People will leave you alone, for sure. But don't
Sean said his topiary represents Celtic knots.
The Glenveagh garden in early February.
After snowdrops in late January, the daffodils arrive a few weeks later.
As the daffodils fade, in creep the Primroses.
There they are, small and yellow, growing in the grass at the edge of the pine plantation.
As spring rises, I spend even more time watching the clouds and feeling the fresh air on my face. Spring is coming on fast.
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