A Spring in my step

Photography by Mick O Callaghan

Spring 2026

I give you the opening lines of the poem

Cill Aodáin:

Anois teacht an earraigh

Beidh an lá ag dul chun síneadh

’S tar éis na Féile Bríde

Árdóidh mé mo sheol

Ó chuir mé i mo cheann é

Ní stopfaidh mé choíche

Go seasfaidh mé síos i lár Chontae Mhaigh Eo.

This poem was composed by Antaine Ó Raiftearaí, Anthony Raftery (1799–1835), a

wandering poet who was born in Killedan, near Kiltimagh, Co. Mayo. I think most people of an older generation in Ireland will have learned it in primary school.

Well, I am not headed to Kiltimagh, but I

do notice that spring has been quietly putting things in place here in Gorey over the past few weeks, announcing its arrival. I was out walking last week and noticed that it had finally arrived. The mornings were definitely brighter and starting earlier. When I pulled back the curtains, I saw a soft

golden light stretched over the gardens and nearby houses. This cock’s step of a daily light extension was a clear indication of the arrival of spring.

When I was down in Courtown Harbour yesterday evening, I noticed the wild garlic flowers were blooming. There was a beautiful evening sun lingering, as if it wanted to stay. People were walking around in light jackets, and some were brave enough to dive into the chilly waters of the Irish Sea for a swim.

I came back into Gorey and walked down the street. There was a cheerfulness about the place as people detected brighter days and a slight rise in temperature. People were sitting outside cafés sipping lattes. They were not rushing home because of the softness of the evening air. Instead, they lingered, doing a bit of window shopping and socialising.

For myself, I am aware of the new growth spurt in nature. Last week, when I passed the old courthouse opposite the Garda station, I noticed the bare branches of the cherry blossom tree. It was a sad sight to see its thin, bare branches against the Gorey skyline through the iron bars atop the granite wall. Today, the area was transformed, with delicate pink blossoms appearing almost overnight. No one opened a door for them or gave them nourishment—they simply arrived unannounced in another great miracle of nature. It won’t be long before they begin scattering their pink confetti-like petals across lawns and footpaths.

As I progressed along the path towards home, I stopped to admire the emerging magnolia flowers in a neighbour’s garden. The buds were large, and some were loosening their hold, revealing their beauteous treasury of white flowers. They appeared like candle holders ready to shed light on their surroundings. Yesterday, I photographed the tightly closed blooms; today, I captured an emerging flower with its velvety leaves and pinkish-white petals. I can’t wait for the full flush of blooms to appear. For now, I live in hope and anticipation that we will get calm, warm weather to help the magnolia tree deliver its magical floral display.

The next garden has a most wonderful display of pinkish-red camellia flowers. I just love this evergreen ornamental bush with its shiny leaves and large, elegant flowers that bloom in the cooler months of the year. We have five of them in our own garden, and they bring great colour in early February and March. They are a beacon of light for the other emerging buds on plants and trees.

Elsewhere in our garden, the Brunnera ‘Jack Frost’ has appeared as if from nowhere, displaying its elegant, delicate silver-green leaves, which will soon produce a lovely crop of forget-me-not-like flowers. The flower beds, which until recently were lifeless and dull, are now filling up with crocuses, hyacinths, and dwarf daffodils, providing a colourful ground cover display. On our back window, the violas and cyclamen—these winter saviours—are thriving despite all the inclement weather we have had.

Daffodils are appearing everywhere, nodding their heads in a sprightly dance to the brightening skies. The garden landscape seems to have sprung into life after its extra-long winter hibernation. Hedges and trees are producing little green tips to show that they too are waking up. Soon, we will see horse chestnut buds appearing as another great season of nature’s awakening begins.

I heard another sure sign of spring, one that disturbs the winter peace and tranquillity of our open spaces—the mechanical hum of lawnmowers in action, heralding the start of another grass-cutting season. This familiar buzzing sound will form a grassy chorus until next November. Maybe it’s time to invest in a remote-controlled mower.

We also hear the more soothing sounds of birds chirping as they prepare for their mating season. I note that our robins are back in the garden, as are the blackbirds, busily hopping across the lawn in search of worms.

Everywhere, Mother Nature is bursting back into life from her prolonged winter slumber, and we welcome her return as her annual floral extravaganza begins once more.

Yes, Spring 2026 has definitely sprung.

Mick O Callaghan March 20^th, 2026,  www.aramblersblog.com    caldun09@gmail.com

My latest book, The Natural Storyteller, is now available at Kavanaghs (Wexford Road, Arklow), Easons (Gorey), Myles Doyle (Gorey), Springmount Garden Centre, Gala Store (Courtown), Tara Vie Hotel (Courtown), Red Books (Wexford), and The Book Centre (Wexford). You can also purchase it online at www.theirishbookshop.com or directly from me, priced fifteen euros.