Tipperary at Dusk

I was staying at my father-in-law’s house while Pat was away on business. One evening, a few days after daylight savings, I looked outside and saw the most beautiful sky. It was at around 7:30 pm and Maeve was just about to go to bed, but I strapped her into her sling and instead of sleeping we went out to enjoy the beautiful evening.

There’s a ruin of an old glebe on my father-in-law’s land. It hasn’t been a ruin for a very long time – you can see the different rooms and how they were wired with electricity – but it’s all made of stone and the trees have begun to grow through the cracked walls. A glebe would be the home of the parish priest back in the day – now, our priest lives across the street from the church, which is much more convenient.

This is my favourite time of year in Ireland. The lane to my father-in-law’s house is lined with blooming daffodils and the trees are starting to turn green. The days are getting longer, extending twilight til well into the evening. The days are a bit warmer; the wind less bitter. For me, Ireland (and Tipperary in particular) personifies springtime.