During the first week of March, nature has already sprung back to life in the West of County Clare.
This is the gardener’s view—down on knees, weeding around the base of the rose bush that has recently taken on red and bronze pigment and swollen buds with its flush of new growth. The daffodils are already standing like yellow soldiers at attention.

I hear a meow and turn to search for Uncle Martin’s cat. Instead, I see Frank behind the mirrored reflection of the garden in one the sun porch windows. He winks and waves.

*
He had a great mind and was a lovely man, taken from the Old Bog Road far too early by Parkinson’s Disease.

L’Incontro~ Andrea Bocelli (ft. Bono)