Ireland
State d’Affaires
Catching up on all things farming.
These are the Irish mornings you wake up to in wonder. The sun begins eating away at the sky earlier and earlier, the clouds shattering as the rays of light reach them. The ground, chilled from an overnight dive in temperature, warms up enough that the mists begin to form, wreathing the saturated ground in this mystical glory you’ve seen in pictures of Shenandoah and other beautiful valleys. But this is our valley and vale, our home, and our particular neck of the woods.
Stick season is rather abbreviated here in Ireland, and the changing climate doesn’t help the process much. We’re already heading into daffodil season, their green stems and leaves working their way through the clumped grass and layers of fallen leaves. In a few weeks, they’ll be in full colour, the yellow and white blossoms tracing the sun’s arc through the sky, if only for the briefest period of time. Buds are forming on the trees with our copper ashes the last to heel-to. Spring is, for all intents, here.
The horses are in full winter regalia, having been outdoors consistently since their arrival here. Their shaggy coats have done wonders to repel the weather, and even Cleo, racehorse she is, has grown a bit fluffy. She’s been refusing her coat, so we assume she can stay dry and warm enough that…
