It has been a busy week. I have had Zoom meetings or classes that averaged two hours every day for eight days straight. That was quite the marathon! Is it just me or do video meetings take a lot of energy? Or perhaps, I am just out of practice with that much interaction with someone other than my husband?! Meanwhile, work on the Geopark Poetry Map is hotting up, too. Check out this blog on Thursday, 29th April for a special geoheritage poem to celebrate Poetry Day Ireland. This year’s theme for Poetry Day Ireland is “New Directions: Maps and Journeys.” Very appropriate as we await submissions for the Geopark Poetry Map
Spring is exerting its force here in West Cavan. My husband is an ardent gardener and has been planting bulbs around our acre and in pots and containers and down along the lane over the years. With the mandate to take outdoor exercise we have more walkers down our (generally) quiet lane. When we were in the local Spar on a Monday for the weekly supermarket grocery swoop, his flowers were complimented. This may spur him on to more bulb planting this autumn.
The Weekly poem grew out of an exercise with my Saturday Poets. Poems and gardens…what better legacy to leave to posterity.
Legacy For Tony They walk past the garden admiring the croci, then daffodils, then tulips lining our lane where walkers take their mandated exercise. Bulbs keep giving, multiplying year on year. They shall outlast us more than likely.And long after we are in the ground they shall cheer up the walkers and drive bys with trumpets blaring gold. Cups of pink and red, purple, white and orange will open each Spring for someone to admire their riot of colour. Planted out just for some future strangers' pleasure.
See you on Thursday for the whole hoopla of Poetry Day Ireland!
Featured image Photo by Yoksel 🌿 Zok on Unsplash
Wonderful poem Barbera and so true I often find groves of planted wild flowers around the ruins of old houses.. It’s a final testament to something that remains a last flicker of hope of a love that dwelt in that place .. Never fails to inspire me..
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I loved it Bee as the seasons and the surprises from the earth never cease to inspire me. Thinking hard on the Geopark poems. I created a page on my new Word Press website that is waiting for it
Cheers!
Maggie Logan
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Good luck with the poem. Remember to get it in according to guidelines by 31st May!
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During my father’s last autumn, when he knew he wouldn’t be there to see spring, he and my sister planted hundreds of bulbs. My mom still enjoys them, nearly two decades later. Gardeners’ gifts outlast them!
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That is so poignant. And such an act of love, too.
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Strangely after reading this I took a walk in the woods and realised.that indeed nature the turning of the seasons is all we truly have left.. Covid has robbed us of so much, we are divided physically but also in opinion house against house brother against brother . It would be hard to get two people ( let alone the government) to agree on what exactly is happening.. We are alienated in so many ways only the wild things accept us as it ever did ..
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Sadly, you are dead on with that estimation. Given that all things…and people and species…are connected, this division is all the harder to bear.
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Yes it is a prison without bars a hidden force field that makes us distant . It has become the new “unmentionable” . Even the resignation of Arlene the first minister I believe was in part as a result of the pandemic.. There isn’t an easy way to impose another lockdown or enforce bewildering rules without becoming the scapegoat for all that is wrong .. But this two will pass we will be older and wiser and more grateful than before …
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